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ThK W UKCKMASTKI! 


A T i'HK (JitAVK OK }IIS ^V I F K.— I *. 






/ 





THE 


WRECKMASTER. 



By KNICKERBOCKER, Jr. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

DAUGIIADAY & BECKER, 

1031 Walnut Street. 


1870, 



ft 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, 

hy 

DAUGHADAY & BECKER, 


in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington. 


yHE ^RECKMASTEE\^ 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

Giving an account of some of the Charac- 
ters in our Village, - - - 

CHAPTER II. 

Showing the Result of my Acquaintance 
with the Old Wreckmaster, - 

CHAPTER III. . 

AVherein is contained an Account of the 
Wreckmaster ’s Early Life, 

CHAPTER lY. 

Which gives some Glimpses of College 
Life, and its effects upon the Wreck- 
master, 

CHAPTER V. 

Giving some Vacation Experiences, 


PAGE. 

7-22 

23-33 

33-48 

49-61 


62-75 


iv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Narrating some Vacation Experience of a 

Different Character, - - - 76-86 

CHAPTER VII. 

Whicli indicates an Approaching Crisis 

in the History of the Wreckmaster, 87-100 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Showing how Shaw’s Discomfiture Affect- 
ed the Wreckmaster’s Fortune, - 101-113 

CHAPTER IX. 

Which throws the Wreckmaster upon his 

own Resources, . - - - 114-127 

CHAPTER X. 

Unveils a Mystery and Several Other 

Things, 128-141 

CHAPTER XI. 

Portrays the Wreckmaster’s Attempt at 

the Rescue of his Mother, - - 142-156 

CHAPTER XII. 

Introduces Cloud, Darkness and Sun- 
shine, ... - i ^ 157-173 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Opens a New Career for the Wreck- 

iimster, 174-188 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Which Bears the Wreckmaster Abroad, 189-202 


CONTENTS. 


V 


CHAPTER XV. 

Reveals a Double Surprise, - - - 203-215 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Tells of the Rescue, Flight and Disper- 
sion, ------ 21G-229 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Brings the Wreckmaster into his Posses- 
sions, ------ 230-243 

» CHAPTER XVIII. 

Is Full of Hope and Joy, - - - 244-257 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Gives the Account of a Fruitless Voyage, 

258-272 

CHAPTER XX. 

Brings the Wreckmaster’s part of the 

Story to a Close. ^ - - - - 273-284 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Contains the Sequel to the Wreckmaster’s 

Story, ------ 285-295 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Draws our Story to a Close, - - - 296-307 


LIST OF ILLTJSTEATIOHS, 


The W reckmaster at the Grave of his W ife — Frontispiece. 


Escorting the Old Wreckmaster Home. - Page 24. 

In the Theater, 77. 

The Rescue, 137. 

Death of Messenger, 186. 

First Meeting Avith Ci’ocker, ... - 235. 


The Wreckmaster 


CHAPTEK THE FIRST. 

GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE CHARACTERS IN 
OUR VILLAGE. 

village has its peculiar char- 
3. There is always some one 
)re who stand out in bold re- 
8 quite distinct from the rest 
of the community. They are noted for some 
habit or mental peculiarity ; or they have per- 
formed some action which renders them con- 
spicuous. It may be that they are heroes for a 
good distinguishing trait, or quite otherwise, 
and some vice or oddity may make them objects 
for mirth or pity: Our village was no excep- 
tion to the rule, for we were favored with several 
of this sort. 



7 


8 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


There was, for example, old Mr. Monfort — 
Nicholas Monifort. Some called him “ Old 
Nick,” some “ Santa Claus,” but he was gener- 
ally known as “ Uncle Nicky.” 

He was a harmless body. And during my 
day he must have ranged from seventy to eighty 
years of age. He was a bachelor and lived in 
his nephew’s family. He was wealthy, and in 
expectation of his property his near relatives 
were very indulgent toward him. While his 
mind was sound on all matters of money or real 
estate, it was decidedly deranged on the subject 
of witches. 

He firmly believed in spiritual manifestations. 
And if he were living in the year Eighteen 
Hundred and Seventy, instead of Eighteen Hun- 
dred and Eorty, he would have been accepted 
as a capital medium in spiritual circles. 

He would tell his dreams, always declaring 
his belief in them as communications from the 
spirit world. He would, through these, render 
prophecies respecting the country, the church, 
and the world, and would recall facts in history 
which he declared he predicted would take place 
long before they happened. He kept a diary of 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


9 


these revelations, and, to convince his hearers, 
he would turn to the date of the dream and 
compare it with the date of the event. 

It was true that some things had occurred 
just as he foretold, but by far, the greater num- 
ber of his prophecies proved miserable failures. 
But these he took particular pains not to men- 
tion, or conveniently to forget. In fact, the^ 
were chance shots, such as any one might make 
and sometimes hit the mark. 

Uncle Nicky had a way, too, of walking 
through the grave-yard in the evening. And 
he positively asserted that he there met and 
conversed with the ghosts of his old neighbors, 
who had been a long time dead and buried. 
But he could find no one to believe him, yet he 
held to the belief all the same. 

Once, when he was there in the afternoon, he 
saw the shadowy outlines of a human face upon 
a tomb stone. He had known the person buried 
there during his life-time. He visited the place 
often, but saw the profile onl}'- at a certain hour 
in the afternoon. He said it was a true likeness 
of the man whose body lay buried beneath the 
sward. 


10 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


He mentioned this circumstance to a group of 
men and boys standing at the door of the village 
blacksmith shop, and to test him they demanded 
to be led to the spot. Uncle Nicky thought he 
was now in a fair way to gain a victory, and to 
make converts to his faith in the supernatural. 
So he agreed to lead us (I was one of the boys) 
that afternoon at four o’clock, to see the portrait 
of Mr. Van Deen (whom the older portion of the 
group had known) upon his tombstone as marked 
out there by the witches. 

We went, according to agreement. And there, 
sure enough, was the perfect outline of the 
features of a man. It was a face of remarkable 
beauty, but the most prominent point, in fact 
and for observation, was the nose, which was de- 
cidedly Roman. Some of the neighbors agreed 
that this was Mr. Van Deen’s face, while others 
remembered him as having a decided “pwgf” 
nose. But Uncle Nicky insisted upon it that it 
was a correct picture. 

The circumstance created considerable excite- 
ment that night. It frightened us boys con- 
siderably. I was sent on an errand on that 
evening, to a part of the village requiring me to 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


11 


pass through the grave-yard, for the wagon road 
divided it into two parts. I plead with my 
mother to put it off until the next day, but all 
to no purpose — go I must. Now, my mother 
was not at all superstitious, and laughed at the 
people for being duped by “ an old crazy man.” 
And I have often suspected that she made this 
errand on purpose to try me, and to cure me 
of any fear of ghosts or “spooks,” as we called 
them. 

I went on my errand, but I did not go by the 
main road. I must have made a circuit of three 
miles to go a distance of less than half a mile. 
Down through the barn-yard and around the 
corn-stacks, across Dubois’s farm, and through 
Denton’s door yard I made my route. And 
on returning the same way, I had the satisfac- 
tion of being chased by a man with a gun in his 
hand, who thought I was stealing watermelons, 
and had my pantaloons torn by the dog while 
climbing the fence, from which I fell into a ditch I 

I presented myself in a sad plight to my 
mother, who, at first, laughed, and then took 
down an ominous stick that usually hung across 
the nails behind the door, and said she would 


12 


THE WRECKaiASTER. 


then and there drive the witches away from her 
house. And as she supposed them all to be 
concentrated in me she applied the rod. And I 
guess she drove them out. At any rate, I have 
never had any fear of grave-yards or ghosts 
since that time. And I thank my good mother 
for it. 

The next day, a great wondering crowd gath- 
ered at the ^rave-yard gate. And I was with 
them. Uncle Nicky was on hand, engaged in 
telling his strange stories, and it must be ac- 
knowledged, he found more ready listeners than 
he had ever before. 

Before the precise time arrived, an older 
brother of mine, a mischievous and impudent 
fellow, together with an acquaintance of his, had 
placed themselves before the stone to watch it. 
He had made a discovery. And so he thought 
he would have some sport. So just as Uncle 
Nicky brought up his throng to witness the 
strange sight and had told them all he knew 
about his deceased neighbor, my brother quietly 
stepped up and tore off the projecting bark 
of an old locust tree that stood near by, and 
behold, the shadow vanished I 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


13 


Old Nicky was thunderstruck ! The crowd 
looked at him and then burst out into a loud 
laugh. The old man skulked away as if ashamed 
of himself. 

The explanation was very simple. The tree 
hark had so grown that when the sun was in a 
certain position it cast its shadow upon the 
grave-stone, and it so happened that it formed 
the outlines of a human face — one of those freaks 
of nature which are often observed. 

Uncle Nicky, however, continued to believe in 
witches, although he never afterward mentioned 
this circumstance in support of his belief. He 
still had horse shoes nailed over the barn-door 
and over his bed-room door. He cast into 
moulds tiny silver bullets, which he always car- 
ried with him, together with a pistol. He be- 
lieved that he could kill any evil disposed witches 
with these. And many a time have I stood by 
him when he was boiling a horrible compound 
of bones and cuttings from horses’ hoofs, the 
refuse of chicken roosts, dog’s hair, bran and 
rice, which he insisted drove the witches from 
the house, the stable, and the barn-yard. I 
have thought since how all this corresponded to 


14 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


the offerings which some savages render by way 
of propitiating their evil deities. Uncle Nicky 
has gone to the spirit land now. Perhaps he sees 
clearer and knows more. AYe boys missed him 
very much after the grave had received him. 

Another character in our village was Steve 
Lyle. As I count the years backward he could 
not have been old at the time to which I refer, 
and yet, everybody called him “Old Steve.” 
He was remarkable chiefly for his wit and idle- 
ness. He had a very large, buxom woman for 
a wife. They had no children. It was very 
fortunate that they had not. His father had 
left him a small house with a few acres of ground 
surrounding it. It was a very black looking 
house, from the fact that it never had been 
painted, yet the doors and window shutters 
were of the brightest blue color. The inside was 
always clean and neat, but the fences were down, 
the barn usually empty. The cow might answer 
for a lantern, and the pig had such long slim 
legs and such a slender body that it answered 
very well for a race on the course. These 
animals picked up their living from the road- 
side. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


15 


01(1 Steve was a general favorite at the store, 
where he spent the most of his time. His dry 
wit and frequent practical jokes served to relieve 
the monotony of the otherwise dull place very 
much. True, his wit was not always of a high 
order, neither were those who were ready at 
hand to express their appreciation of it. Some- 
times, however, he would paint a story in such 
a way as to make him in demand to repeat it to 
the grandees, and even to the minister of the 
place. He never laughed himself, and drawled 
out his words between his frequent expectora- 
tions of tobacco juice in a manner entirely his 
own. You had to listen in spite of yourself 
Generally you would be repaid in the end. 
Sometimes, however, when he had a large crowd 
of listeners, he would begin a story and after 
drawling it out for a half an hour, during which 
their interest would become intensely awakened, 
he would abruptly get off the barrel upon which 
he was sitting and go home, leaving the crowd 
to laugh at their own folly. 

He always originated the practical jokes for 
the holidays, such as the sack-race, the Hour 
dodge, and the tree trick. He would, for exam- 


16 


THE WRECK3IASTER. 


pie, place a dollar on the ground about a hun- 
dred yards ahead, and then offer it to the first 
man in a sack who would get it. Usually the 
negroes of the place enlisted in this contest. 
And it was comical enough to see a half dozen 
stalwart black men with a salt sack drawn over 
their feet, enclosing their arms, and tied around 
the neck, trying to run ! What tumbles ! And 
when they reached the goal what struggles I for 
they had to pick it up with their teeth. 

Then Steve would put a dollar in the bottom 
of a barrel partially filled with loose flour, and 
the man who could get it with his mouth was 
entitled to it. The poor negroes were generally 
the competitors in this, also. They drew cuts 
for the first chance. One minute of time was 
allowed for each effort. O, how we laughed at 
the curly heads and black faces covered with 
the flour ! and at the puffing and blowing of the 
poor fellows in ejecting it from their mouths 1 
Steve was always liberal with what little he 
had, and so kept the good will of the defeated 
negroes by treating them to a glass of gin. 

Sometimes, on Fourth of July’s, he would 
start the tree trick. There was an old liberty 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


17 


pole in front of the store. Steve would grease 
this very thickly with ordinary wagon grease 
and tar after having placed a dollar on one of 
the steps, about twenty-five feet above the 
'ground, and would make a contest for this. 
Sometimes the hand would be just reaching it 
when down came the unlucky wight, and 
another would make the efibrt, uutil, at length, 
some one succeeded. We all laughed to convul- 
sions, and many even rolled on the ground, but 
Steve never moved a muscle of his face. 

One of the most amusing things I ever knew 
him to do was to match his pig in a foot race 
with Sol Larkins^ a noted lounger of the place. 
The pig did not taste real good swill very often. 
So Steve gave him a smell and a taste, after 
having secured him by a rope, and then started 
about a hundred yards in advance. He offered 
Sol the pig if he could catch him before the pig 
did. He was in a fair way of doing it when 
Steve threw the pail with the swill just before 
him. Sol tumbled, the swill spilled, and, just 
then, the pig jumped over him I 

Well, Steve has gone, too. And I am now a 


18 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


man. But these old times come hack, and I 
ca n’t help laughing even yet. 

Then there were other distinguished charac- 
ters. There was the horse doctor, Tim Lewis, 
He became a homoeopathist, and carried his 
practice to his horses and cattle. It was very 
hard to prevent the staid people of the village 
from laughing when he told them that a few 
pellets of Belladonna would heal the wound of a 
horse which had run a nail in his foot. He was 
eccentric, but very useful notwithstanding. 

Then there was Peter Onderdonk, the 
politician. He got to be quite a celebrity, 
although the people have never yet recovered 
from his tirst feat in the political arena. Peter 
had recently come from New Jersey, and was 
now a resident of Kings County, in the State 
of New York. He was very glib of tongue, 
and made quite an effective stump speech. The 
people took such a fancy to him that they elected 
him to the lower branch of the Legislature. 

Now, Peter having come from New Jersey, 
had never heard of any other place for the Leg- 
islature to meet than Trenton. He knew at 
what time the session commenced. So, instead 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


19 


of going to Albany, the capital of the State of 
New York, of which he was a resident, he went 
and reported himself at the State House at 
Trenton 1 

It soon became known. His political enemies 
made much capital out of this circumstance. 
But his audacity even conquered this terrible 
blow upon his want of intelligence, and he has 
since been to Congress. Verily, brass is more 
powerful than gold ! 

Not the least among the characters, however, 
was he whose title appears at the head of this 
chapter. His name was known to but few. It 
was upon the town records as Henry Single- 
ton. But every body spoke of him as “T/ie 
Old Wreckmaster.’’'^ 

His eccentricity manifested itself in keeping 
himself secluded. He would return the saluta- 
tions of his neighbors with marked politeness, 
and tip his hat to the ladies whom he met in the 
most gallant manner. 

He lived alone on the road leading down to 
the inlet harbor, and, at the time of this refer- 
ence, had lived there for more than thirty years. 
I said he lived alone, but he had one negro 


20 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


servant-man, who was just as quiet and non- 
committal as his master. It was noticed that, 
in their conversation, they always used the 
Spanish language. 

In appearance, Old Wreckmaster was rather 
under size, stout and inclined to bend forward. 
He wore a full beard, which was gray, as 
was also his hair, which was nicely curled 
in thin ringlets which fringed his neck. His 
clothes, however, were of the shabbiest sort, 
not ragged, but dirty, almost filthy. He wore a 
flannel shirt and no cravat, and a thick cord 
about his neck, which might be for suspending 
a sailor’s knife, eye-glasses, or a watch. 

He was a mystery. The people respected 
while they feared to intrude upon his privacy. 

His house was, in external appearance, of the 
shabbiest in the neighborhood. He cultivated 
a few vegetables, and there were a few st’-**g- 
gling fruit trees near the house, which was pro- 
tected on the roadside by a high board fence. 
The gate was always locked. He had a couple 
of fierce dogs, which were never permitted to 
leave the enclosure. 

On several occasions of late, a coach had been 


THE WIIECKMASTER. 


21 


seen at the door with a liveried driver and foot- 
man on the box. A lady and gentleman and 
little boy were seen to enter the yard. They 
usually remained about an hour, and then drove 
away, the Old Wreckmaster standing at the gate 
and waving adieus as far as he could see them, 
the lady, meanwhile, kissing her hand, and the 
little boy shaking his handkerchief in return. 

Old Wreckmaster made a weekly trip to the 
village store. At other times of need he sent 
Hernando, the servant. There was no mistak- 
ing the nature of his errand. He carried a little 
brown jug holding half a gallon. He did not 
stop on the way. He did not even ask for what 
he wanted, but placing the jug on the counter 
he waited until it was filled, paid for it without 
exchanging a word, except the customary “good 
morning,” and then stalked home again. His 
jug was, at the same time, his friend and foe, 
his comfort and his tormentor. Need I say it 
contained whiskey f 

I see him now — the little old man— jogging 
along with a hickory alpen stick reaching above 
his head, as every Saturday morning, about ten 
o’clock, he passed our house, carrying the little 


22 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


browQ jug. We boys all feared him. He seemed 
like a being from another world. When we 
went by his house we usually lowered our voices, 
as if some dreadful person lived there. And 
yet, once as I was climbing the fence and lighted 
on the ground just in front of him, he smiled 
very pleasantly at me. From that moment my 
interest in him increased. 


CHAPTER THE SECOND. 


8H0WIXG THE RESULT OF MY ACQUAINTANCE WITH 
“ OLD WEECKMASTER.” 



IjE had never been found intoxicated, 
although he was known as a con- 
firmed drunkard. He did all his 
drinking at home, and even there 
Hernando said he had never seen him in a help- 
less condition. He, however, kept himself full, 
and managed to do away with a half a gallon 
of whiskey each week. 

The people of our little village were surprised, 
therefore, by a report that the Old Wreckmaster 
had been seen lying by the side of the road in a 
state of beastly intoxication. They leaped to 
the conclusion that the cups were doing their 
fatal work, and that soon another character 
would disappear from the number. 

But the people were mistaken. The old man 


was not drunk, 


but had been seized with an 
23 




24 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


attack of vertigo and had fallen. A neighbor 
passing by had seen him, and knowing him to 
be a hard drinker, thought, of course, that that 
was all. 

Charley Cromwell and I had been out shooting 
snipe down on the bay shore, and on our return 
found him in the condition mentioned above. Al- 
though we both stood somewhat in awe of him, 
yet I was encouraged by the pleasant smile he once 
gave me, and proposed to cross over and help him. 

He had then so far recovered as to be able to 
help himself a little. Seeing us standing near, 
he said : 

“Well, boys, old age is doing its work. This 
is the third time I have been seized with these 
attacks.” 

I asked if we might not help him to his home. 
He hesitated a moment, and then as if talking 
to himself, said : “What ’s the use. I must go 
before long. Boys, I will thank you very much 
to render me a little assistance.” 

So Charley supported him on one side, and I 
on the other, and helped him as far as the gate. 
It was locked on the outside by a pad-lock. 
Hernando had gone fishing. They each carried 













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THE WRECKMASTER. 


25 


a key. He took his from his pocket and was 
just about unlocking the gate when he turned 
and looked steadily at us, and said : 

“ Boys, I have never allowed any of my neigh- 
bors to come into my house. I have my reasons 
for it. I may seem odd and eccentric ; but I am 
my own master and prefer to do as I please. I 
do n’t know how to do otherwise than to admit 
you two, but it must be on condition that what 
you see and learn there, shall be kept a secret 
until I am dead.” 

I was then eighteen years of age and Charley 
about a year older. We were both ready to 
enter college at the next term. I was somewhat 
romantic in my disposition and had read a good 
many novels. So that niy imagination immedi- 
ately conjured up various fancies respecting the 
Wreckmaster’s history and mode of life. 

And yet I hesitated about crossing the thresh- 
old of the house which was so wrapped in mys- 
tery. 

Charley was a blunt, bold fellow. There was 
not a particle of sentiment about him. He sim- 
ply thought he was doing a good turn in helping 
an old man home, and that perhaps by getting 


26 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


acquainted with him he might get some ideas of 
fislTing and sailing, and that perhaps he might 
hear a story about a shipwreck on the coast. 

The Wreekmaster opened the gate, and imme- 
diately his two dogs — one a very vicious looking 
fellow, a bull dog with a row of teeth in his un- 
der jaw setting a half an inch beyond those in 
his upper jaw — and the other a magnificent water 
spaniel — sprang toward us. But a single word 
from their master made them as quiet as two 
lambs. 

We entered the kitchen part of the building. 
This was in the wing portion having a shed roof 
and sometimes called a lean-to^ a phrase cor- 
rupted into “ linter ” 

He told us to be seated, after we had placed 
hiiii upon an old settee, upon which were spread 
two or three comfortable although very much 
soiled blankets. 

In the interval of silence I took the oppor- 
tunity to look around the room. 

The fire-place was large, one of those old- 
fashioned ones that can take in wood of the 
length usually cut and for sale in the market by 
the cord. In it, upon a huge crane which swung 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


27 


on a pivot, were suspended two black iron pots 
and a tea-kettle. The fire had gone down, but 
at his suggestion I rekindled it, and it felt very 
comfortable, it being now in the early part of 
November. 

Over the chimney piece hung a musket, and a 
basket containing fishing tackle. There were 
other articles used for hunting and fishing in 
different parts of the room^ What most attracted 
my attention, however, was a little table appar- 
ently of ebony, over which hung a miniature 
picture of a beautiful child, done on ivory and 
exquisitely framed in what seemed to be solid, 
chased gold. The frame was about two inches 
in height by an inch and a half in width. Over 
the picture were a set of shelves held together 
by cords and filled with books. 

The old man saw that my curiosity was awak- 
ened and told me that I could examine the books. 
I did so, and to my surprise found them to be of 
a very profound character. 

There was a well worn copy of the Greek 
Testament, a copy of Homer and several other 
Greek classics, Horace and Virgil, and, what 
seemed more used than the rest, a copy of Cicero’s 


28 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


orations. Besides these there were volumes of 
history and poetry, all bearing evidence of hav- 
ing been repeatedly read. 

I had completed my examination as far as I 
deemed it proper on a first visit, when my eye 
was arrested by a copy of what seemed to be a 
pocket Bible. The old man just then caught my 
eye. 

‘‘Take it, young man, yes, take it” he said. 
“You may look at it, although no eyes have seen 
it since — since — except Hernando’s and mine.” 

I took it and found that it bore a rich purple 
velvet cover which was matted down as if by the 
action of water. It was held together by a gold 
clasp upon which were engraved the initials 
“C. S.” Upon opening it, I found carefully 
tied with a faded blue ribbon a lock of yellow 
hair, which probably was once quite beautiful, 
but it now was crisp and dead. 

I now resumed my seat. Charley had taken 
down the old flint lock, and examined it, and 
having asked a few questions of the old man 
about the haunts of certain kinds of fish in the 
bay, had already begun to manifest an impa- 
tience to go. 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


29 


I was determinod, however, to make the most 
of the rare privilege of being in the house of this 
strange old man. 

So I ventured to ask him a few questions. I 
asked him how long he had been Wreckmaster ? 
and if he had ever found any wrecks ? and if 
there was anything of interest connected with 
them ? 

The old man smiled and said he supposed I 
did not know how much was implied in all those 
questions, or I would easily see that it was 
impossible to answer them that day or that 
week. 

“But,” he added, “I have no objections to 
giving you my history. I have long desired to 
have some one to whom to give it, both for the 
purpose of doing good to those who are growing 
up to be men and also for vindicating ni}^ own 
reputation which is closely linked with that of 
another whom I love more than myself.” 

I w^as surprised to hear this man who was set 
down as only a wine-bibber, a blot upon society, 
talk in this manner. I was prepared somewhat 
for a display of some degree of intelligence from 
his general bearing, but I did not suppose that 


30 


THE AVRECK*AIASTER. 


in the Old Wreckmaster I should find a scholar 
and a moralist. 

He talk about “doing good I” He who was 
only a recluse of a drunkard ! He talk about 
“loving some one better than himself I” He 
who was supposed only to exist as a beast 
exists I 

He said that he could not undertake to begin 
his story to-day, but if we would come and 
spend Friday evenings with him, he would give 
it from week to week. We readily promised to 
do so, and rose to depart. He shook our hands 
heartily and thanked us for the service we had 
rendered him, and then repeated his request that 
we would not stir up curiosity about him, any 
more than we could help, and if asked about it, 
just to mention it as a matter of course that Ave 
lielped him home and that he Avas not intoxica- 
ted. “For,” said he, “AA'hile it is true that I 
consume a great deal of liquor, I ha\'e too much 
respect for myself to make a public exhibition 
of my degradation. Boys,” he added, in a 
loud voice, “.I am a poor drunkard. I ca^i’t 
help it. Time was when I could. But you can 
save yourselves from the terrible sufferings Avhicb 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


31 


I have endured, if you will heed a poor inebri- 
ate’s counsel. Don’t touch the intoxicating cup. 
Shun it as you would the small-pox. It is Satan’s 
most powerful instrument for evil. It causes 
more misery than all other evils combined.” 

Here again we were surprised by what w^e 
could not previously have expected — a temper- 
ance lecture from an old drunkard, and that not 
from one who had reformed, but from one wdio 
was yet indulging and who purposed to use the 
drink as long as he might live. 

We bade him a good-bye with the hope of 
meeting on the following Friday evening. ~ We 
had arranged for Friday evening because our 
Saturday was a holiday and consequently we 
had no lessons to prepare the evening before. 

We had been seen by some one to enter the 
yard of the Old Wreckmaster, and it had already 
spread abroad. When we came to the black- 
smith shop we were immediately beset, and all 
sorts of questions were asked as to how he lived, 
etc. Some expressed their regret that the old 
man was so far gone as to lie drunk in the 
streets. Others made sport of him, and others 
still seemed to be angry at him because, as they 


32 


THE WRECK MASTER. 


said, “he kept himself like an oyster, shut up in 
his shell.” 

Both Charley and I, assured them that he was 
not drunk at the time he was found in the streets, 
and also informed them that we found him a 
very kind-hearted and unusually intelligent man. 

They had all sorts of theories about his mode 
of life. Some said he had been a Tory in the 
war of 1812 with Great Britain, and was obliged 
to defend himself from public intrusion. Others 
that he had committed some great crime in some 
other part of the world, and he was obliged to 
live in a secluded spot. Others again, that he 
had been a pirate, and that there was a great 
deal of booty in his house, and that he had great 
treasure buried on some of the islands off the 
coast, and that he lived here and held the posi- 
tion of Wreckmaster only to keep watch over it. 

Some said the time had come when he ought 
to be made to make himself known, and proposed 
to employ a detective to watch him, and particu- 
larly to find out who the grand people were who 
visited him occasionally with their coach and 
liveried servants. Others insisted that he was 
a good citizen, harmless, that he paid his taxes 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


33 


cheerfully, and had been known in a quiet way 
to help along the poor, and that he had a perfect 
right to live as secluded as he pleased. 

So the people were divided. Previous to this 
there had been little spurts of excitement about 
the old man. But they had soon quieted down, 
and they accepted it as a matter of course that 
he must be seen only on Saturdays going to and 
from the village store with his little brown jug. 

Charley and I looked forward with a good 
deal of interest to the time when we should be 
permitted to hear from his own lips the history 
of that strange man. He had been an enigma — ■ 
a mystery — to the whole neighborhood, and now 
we were to be the ones through whom it should 
be cleared up. 

But we were not prepared for all that we sub- 
sequently received. Nor did we at that time 
anticipate that either of us should in any way 
become a part and parcel of his history. 

Yet so it was. And both the eventful charac- 
ter of his own life and our own connection after- 
ward with it, are of sufficient interest to engage 
the attention of all, and especially of my youth- 
ful readers. 

3 


CHAPTER THE THIRD. 


WHEREIN IS CONTAINED AN ACCOUNT OF THE 
WRECKMASTER’s EARLY LIFE. 

HARLEY CROMWELL and I were 
ready in the early part of the eve- 
ning of the next Friday to make our 
first visit to the Old Wreckmaster. 
It was with some misgiving on the part of my 
mother that she gave her assent. There was so 
much of mystery about the house and the man 
that she felt that I would be exposed to some un- 
usual danger. And yet her curiosity was ex- 
cited, and she as well as myself desired to know 
more about that strange man. 

We rapped at the high wooden gate, and im- 
mediately the two dogs replied with a furious 
barking, which was followed by the quick step 
of Hernando, who took the precaution to look 
through a hole and then to ask, “Who ’s there ?” 
before he unlocked it. When assured that it was 
34 




THE WRECKMASTEK^ 


35 


ourselves and no others he admitted us, at the 
same time quieting the dogs by giving each one 
a hearty kick. He said that his master was 
expecting us, but he didn’t understand it, as 
such a thing had never happened before. 

We found the old man sitting by a blazing 
wood fire, the partially dried maple shooting 
sparks all over the room and crackling like a 
perpetual discharge of musketry. He rose on 
our entrance and extending a hand to each of 
us, expressed himself glad to see us and invited 
us to be seated. 

There was a dignity about his bearing and 
the subdued tone of his voice which impressed 
me as becoming a man of culture, and of one 
far above the station which he seemed to 
occupy. 

He was dressed, too, in very different style 
from that I had ever seen him before. His 
hair was arranged with the same . care which 
had so often caused remark in the neighborhood. 
It was of a glossy grey, and hung in compact 
ringlets all around his neck. His beard, which 
was full and very long, was brushed out to its- 
utmost extent. He had exchanged his old. 


36 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


filthy-looking, red flannel shirt for a white one 
which had a full ruffled bosom and ruffles also 
at the wrists ; besides he wore a white cravat, 
and a magnijicent diamond pin I 

We also observed an unusual cleanliness 
about the room. The floor had been scrubbed, 
and the dirty cover, which was on the lounge 
at the time of our last visit, had been exchanged 
for a clean one of striped chintz. 

He took notice of our curiosity and seemed 
quietly to enjt)y our surprise as we surveyed him 
and the room. And I confess to a little feeling 
of uneasiness and fear because of this sudden 
transformation in the man whom we all deemed 
a strange character, but yet, as nothing above 
the ordinary class of drunkards, except in the 
way of using grammatical language in his con- 
versation. 

“Well, boys,” he said, “I guess you have 
looked long enough. But I don’t blame you 
for it. Under other circumstances, it might 
appear like rudeness, but not so here. For you 
have been accustomed to see me only at stated 
times and in a rough garb while going on an 
errand which is not considered very respectable. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


37 


It ’s all right. Don’t feci uneasy,’^ These last 
words were addressed to me, for in my confusion 
the blood had mounted to my temples. 

“Now,” continued the old man, “I have got 
a good deal to tell you. Some of it I have 
written down years ago, and I have it here, 
(taking down a roll of paper from the mantel- 
piece.) The rest I will give you by word of 
mouth. My object in this is three-fold. In the 
first place I know you (placing his hand famil- 
iarly upon my knee) are going to college. You 
will learn to compose. And I want you to 
make notes of what I say, and I will also give 
you this paper when I have done with it, and 
request that you will put the whole in the form 
of a book. This is the reason why I have 
admitted you two young men to my house. 
But this is only the means fi5r the accomplish- 
ment of an end. If I only had a book published 
giving an account of my life, it would seem very 
egotistical, and it would be said that I courted 
notoriety. But, as you will see in the course of 
my story, I have been greatly misunderstood, 
and gross crimes have been laid to my charge of 
which I am not guilty. I do not now mean to 


38 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


say that I have been entirely innocent of wrono;, 
bnt that I am not the bad man I have been 
made to appear. I wish your book, therefore, 
to be my vindication. It will do me no good, for 
this old head will be sleeping under the sward 
long before your book will see the light, but 
there are others;” and the old man rose and 
pointed to the little miniature in the gold frame 
hanging on the w^all. At this point he seemed 
to be deeply moved. His long beard quivered, 
showing that his chin was convulsed as if in a 
struggle with his tears. 

“ Then,” he continued, “I have still another 
object in view, and that is to leave a legacy to 
boys and young men in the form of a warning 
against the use of intoxicating drinks. Whatever 
I have suffered in body, in mind or reputation — 
all that which has isolated me from home and 
society, and which has kept me so far below the 
sphere of influence and position that I am 
otherwise fitted to occupy, that which has made 
me seem like Cain, a vagabond against whom 
all men arraign themselves, has come from the 
indulgence of strong drink. 

“ You will think this strange in me inasmuch 



THE WRECIvMASTER. 


39 

as I continue to use it. Well, young men, I do 
use it. I can’t do without it. And that is the 
terrible feature in a drunkard’s experience. He 
becomes a slave to that which should be subject 
to his control. Yet I do not drink as^I used to. 
I take it daily, but I do not become intoxicated. 
Once it was otherwise. Alas ! it was otherwise ! 
O, what I have experienced ! But my experience 
is nothing when compared with the misery I 
have brought upon others.” 

Having recovered somewhat from the excite- 
ment of stating the three-fold object contem- 
plated in inviting us to his house, he asked me 
to promise him that I would faithfully reproduce 
what he should say to us and give it to the 
world through some popular periodical or in the 
form of a volume. I promised, and I now attempt 
to fulfill my obligation. 

I need not encumber the narrative with quota- 
tion marks, indicating when the Wreckmaster 
spoke and when we replied ; but in the form in 
which he gave his story, with the incidents, 
serious and amusing, as they came from his lips, 
I will attempt to present it to my readers, 
supplying,, however, some facts which his 


40 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


modesty forbade him to mention, and which 
were procured from other sources. 

The Wreckmaster began his remarks by saying 
that he was not what he seemed to be, but, oc 
the contrary, that he was the son of a gentleman, 
and had enjoyed the advantages of a college 
education. In judging people from appearances 
grave mistakes are often made. And if some of 
his neighbors who pass him by on the road with 
a look of pity, or with a feeling of patronage 
depicted upon their face condescend to bow to 
him, could only be in the condition which his 
birth, education, and present circumstances al- 
lowed him to claim, they might have some 
reason for their pride, that is, if there is ever 
any good reason for one to assert his superiority 
over another. 

This remark of the Wreckmaster was an evi- 
dent allusion to Mr. Jacobs, the wealthiest man 
in our community. Because he was wealthy he 
seemed to imagine that every one was bound to 
do him honor. But, unfortunately, he had noth- 
ing else except wealth. His wife was ignorant, 
and his children were being reared only for dis- 
play. He had tried to have his boys get the 


/ 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


41 


fouiidatiou of an education at the district school, 
but they were too stupid to learn, and so ex- 
tremely uncivil to the other scholars, who were 
not so well dressed as themselves, that the 
teacher had to request that they be taken from 
the school. Then he tried a private tutor, but 
he would not submit to sleep in an attic under 
the roof of a splendid mansion when there were 
many unoccupied comfortable rooms in the 
house, and so he left him. Since then the boys 
had studied horses. They knew all the points 
of a horse ; all their diseases ; the time the 
trotters could make on the course ; and the pedi- 
gree of all the famous stock. Their rooms were 
filled with engravings of horses, of horses trot- 
ting with sulkies ; of horses trotting under the 
saddle ; of horses running on the course ; of 
horses engaged in a hurdle race ; of horses on a 
fox hunt ; of horses on Derby day ; of horses at 
the fair ; of horses being shod, and horses in 
pasture. You can see the man in his meanness 
toward the tutor, and you can see the three boys 
through their horses, and can pretty accurately 
forecast their future from this view. The girls 
were a simpering, silly, do-nothing pair, lying 


42 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 


around all the day in slattern dress and slip-shod 
slippers, with a French novel in their hands. 
And this was the man that presumed to conde- 
scend to smile blandly upon the Old Wreckmas- 
ter, because, forsooth, he thought he was a poor, 
drunken vagabond. 

They had recently had a little tilt of words in 
which Jacobs was worsted. 

The Wreckmaster said that he guessed that 
Ave boys understood whom he meant, for he 
Avould not haA’^e them think that he entertained 
hard feelings toward any other of his neighbors, 
who, with this exception, had treated him with 
marked respect. Besides, he said some things 
would come out in the course of his story which 
would go far to show that old Jacobs had not 
very much reason to be proud even of his wealth. 
For he knew his lineage and his history, and 
had been cognizant of some things in his busi- 
ness relations which would not bear too close an 
examination. 

Young men you have been to New York. 
Well, you have seen that row of buildings on 
the south side of Bowling Green, large mansions, 
and which are now occupied as shipping offices ? 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


43 


Tu one of that row I was born and lived until 
I left my home, in 18 — . My father was engaged 
in the China trade, and had ships engaged in 
bringing cargoes of tea. His office and ware- 
house were in Pearl street. He lived in princely 
style. At home he always sat with a silk cap 
like a Turkish fez, on his head, and clad in a 
magnificent cashmere wrapper, his feet encased 
in velvet slippers, wrought in with most exquisite 
designs by some native Chinese. His body ser- 
vant was a Spanish negro, from the island of 
Cuba, and was the father of my faithful man 
here — Hernando. Hernando is a number of 
years younger than myself, but when a little boy 
he attached himself to me, and we have never been 
separated. We have seen strange things, and 
had some hard knocks, but he has never forsaken 
me. And all the money in this town would not 
bribe him to leave me. 

My father usually spent the time, from ten to 
two o’clock, at his business, then returned home 
and dined at three, and drove out immediately 
after dinner. I was his companion in his daily 
drives until I left home. Sometimes we would 
cross the river, and take our course along 


44 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


the bay to Port Hamilton or Long Island ; and 
sometimes we went directly up New York 
Island, and then again over the Hudson and 
across the great meadow to Newark, and beyond 
in New Jersey. It was during these afternoon 
rides that I chiefly received my education from 
my father. Por in the early morning and in the 
evening after our return, he was alone in his 
library. There he was engaged in literary 
studies, which was his luxury. His business 
was completed at the office, but at home he was 
ever at his books. And I have now in my pos- 
session an annotated edition of Shakspeare’s 
works by himself, in marginal writings, which 
money could not buy; so, too, of this Greek 
Testament, which I read every day. He went 
through it time and again. And you observe 
how full of writing are these blank leaves which 
he had bound up with the volume. And there 
were numerous other standard works in his col- 
lection which he read and re-read, and left with 
the impress of his thoughts upon their pages. 

While I admired him for his talents, and 
now feel the elevating effect of such a careful, 
studious life, yet his seclusive habits produced 


THE WIIECKMASTER. 


45 


one very bad result, which subsequently affected 
my whole career. His wife, my mother, saw 
but little of him, and enjoyed his society scarcely 
at all. We were all together at breakfast, at 
dinner, and at tea ; then about nine o’clock in 
the evening we met for worship, after which I 
went to bed, and mother withdrew to her room, 
W’hile father went into his library, where he re- 
mained until usually about one o’clock in the 
morning. This was our daily routine. There was 
no evening conversation, no games or plays in the 
parlor, no social gatherings. You can well un- 
derstand that my life was very lonely, and that 
there was not that consideration for my years 
%nd youthful spirits that there should have been. 
Nor was my mother properly treated. 

I lived in this way until the time arrived for 
me to enter college. My father was by no means 
indifferent to my education, for, as I said, during 
our afternoon drives he engaged me in conversa- 
tion continually. But it was about my books 
chiefly. Together we declined the substantives 
and conjugated the verbs which were given as 
examples in the Latin and Greek grammars. 
And when I began to construe sentences we 


4G 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


usually took a text book with us. This afforded 
me a great advantage, so that my preparation 
placed me at the head of my class in college, 
which, for the first two years, I easily, main- 
tained. 

Besides this, my father inculcated certain 
moral precepts, and imbued me with a reverence 
for the Bible, which I still hold, for, young men, 
be assured there is nothing like this book with 
its restraining power, its healthful precepts, its 
grand doctrines, its comforting promises, all of 
which are so perfectly adapted to all the check- 
ered experiences of human life. 

This much my father did. He should have 
done more. He should have remembered that I 
was a boy of warm impulses, possessing flesh 
and blood, and stood in need of rscreation and 
sympathy in my sports. Herein he failed, and 
to this I think I can trace the beginning of the 
troubles which afterward beset me. 

He should have taught me something of the 
world, and showed it to me in its various as- 
pects. He should have pointed out its tempta- 
tions, the pleasures which were lawful and 
proper, and those which were sinful in them- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


47 


selves and in their tendencies. This he did not 
do. And, therefore, when 1 left home for college 
I was only a little child, with Latin and Greek 
in my head, and certain moral truths in my 
heart, but I knew nothing of the world. 

I must, in order to be faithful to my early 
youth, speak of my mother. But this is a dark 
spot in my history. What she might have been 
had my father been more in her society I can 
not say, but that his well-meant seclusion was 
the cause of the trouble which came upon us, 
all through my mother’s misconduct, I have not 
the shadow of a doubt. 

I said we ha,d no social gatherings, but my 
mother had company. A gentleman, in whom 
my father placed the most implicit confidence, 
came to visit her, and, at the first, it was one 
evening a week in her society, afterwards his 
visits became more frequent, although he always 
withdrew when the bell rung for prayers at nine 
o’clock. 

Nothing was thought of this, but one day, 
when at college, I received a letter saying, that 
my mother had elopedj icith Mr. . 

I will not dwell upon this subject, it is too 


48 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


painful. My father immediately procured a 
divorce. After this, I never knew what it was 
to have a mother. I have met her, however, 
under other circumstances than those which 
surrounded her and myself in our elegant house — 
as I look back I can not call it a home. 


CHAPTER THE FOURTH. 


WHICH GIVES SOME GLIMPSES OP COLLEGE LIFE AND 
ITS EFFECTS UPON THE WRECKMASTER. 

WAS under size and younger than 
my classmates when I entered col- 
lege. The practice of ‘ ‘ hazing ’ ’ the 
Freshman was then in full force. Of 
course, the professors made a show of preventing 
it, hut to no purpose. And it is remarkable that 
the same foys who were the most shockingly 
abused and persecuted as Freshmen were gener- 
ally foremost in practising the same tricks upon 
those who came after them. 

The first and most common trick played upon 
the green ones was “ the smoking bout.” They 
tried this upon me. Early in the evening of my 
second day at college a gentle rap upon my 
room door announced a visitor. Of course,.! 
arose and admitted him with as much politeness 

of manner as I could master. What was my 
4 49 




50 


THE WIIECKMASTER. 


surprise to find that lie was a Senior ! He had 
been pointed out to me that very day as the man 
who would, without doubt, carry off the first 
honors of his class. My knees almost smote to- 
gether for fear I And yet I was wonderfully 
flattered and pleased. To think of the first 
honor man of Yale College calling upon a poor 
little Freshman, and that on the second day 
after his admission I But I very soon discovered 
that I was more fresh than I thought, and the 
honor not so great as I imagined. 

For a few moments after there was another 
rap, and then another, and another, and another 
until my little room was full. They all an- 
nounced their names, but beyond that there was 
no ceremony. On the contrary, there was a 
great want of it. They took possession of my 
chairs, my wood box, and then they jumped 
upon my bed. I did not know what to think of 
it. I felt angry, but knew that would do no 
good. I then felt like crying, but then I re- 
membered that being in college I was consid- 
ered a man, although I was but fifteen years 
of age. Besides, I knew I should be called a 
booby. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


51 


After singing a song in which my name fre- 
quently occurred, and which considered me as a 
poor little child just from the nursery and cast 
upon the charities of the world, (each allusion 
bringing out the most boisterous laughter) I was 
told, in grave tones, by the chief man, the chief 
honor man of whom I spoke, “ that they had 
made me a visit upon important business, that 
no one was deemed duly matriculated in Yale 
College until he vfus passed through thejires.'^ I 
did not understand this, and was in fear of per- 
sonal violence. They asked me if I had yet 
learned to smoke. I replied that I had not. 
Then they said it was time that I had. So they 
filled an old pipe with tobacco, and told me to 
make the attempt. I refused. They said that 
was very natural, but they must discharge their 
duty. So each fellow filled his pipe, and after 
stuffing the key hole in the door with paper they 
began to puff* away. In a moment the room was 
filled. They put wood on the fire and made the 
place too hot for endurance. I coughed and 
gagged, and resisted to the utmost. At length 
I began to cry, and then nature asserted her 
claims. I was sick, O, so sick I It seemed as 


52 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


if I were turning inside out ! I fell upon the floor 
almost dead. 

“ That ’ll do,” cried the Senior. “ The medi- 
cine is producing its efiect. We ’ll make a man 
of him.” They all united in singing the same 
refrain as before, ending with the chorus “ Vive 
la morey^^ and then filed out of the room. 

The Senior, however, remained. He lifted 
me in his arms and, with all my clothes on, put 
me under the bed, throwing one of the covers 
over me. He then aired the room for a few mo- 
ments and withdrew. 

This, then, I thought, is college life I O to be 
at home again I But then I remembered I had 
no mother. What a bitter night ! I have seen 
much and experienced much since then, but 
except what has come to me through the bottle 
nothing ever equaled that awful night. 

You will say that cured me of all desire for 
smoking. What do you think ? The next night 
I bought a cigar, and before the week closed I 
walked the streets with that same honored 
Senior, both of us smoking ! 

There are habits worse than this, but they are 
seldom found until this one is confirmed. This is 


i 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


53 


the beginning of the end. If I had a voice that 
could be heard by all the boys in our land I 
would say, “Don’i smoke.'>^ It benumbs the 
sensibilities. It has a bad effect upon the morals. 
It lessens self-respect. And it lowers one in the 
esteem of others. Besides, it creates a forced 
false appetite. It acts injuriously upon the 
digestive organs. It produces restlessness, de- 
prives sleep of its greatest relish, and unfits the 
mind for that calm investigation of subjects 
which is so important. And it is my opinion 
that it prepares the way for strong drink. And 
when drink has full sway there is less desire for 
smoke. So there are two classes of non-smokers, 
those who have never learned, and those who 
are conquered by strong drink. I need not ask 
which is preferable. 

Although I had become so far a man and a 
regular student in college, my grief and mortifi- 
cation on account of the disgraceful affair at 
home took a deep hold upon me. It preyed upon 
my mind, and made me appear gloomy and 
morose. This was noticed by my fellow-students. 
Some of them questioned me about it. I evaded 
a direct answer. One of them had heard of the 


54 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


affair and chided me with it. I replied by giving 
him a stunning blow in the face. To my sur- 
prise he did not strike back, but immediately 
reported the case to his classmates. He was a 
Sophomore. 

That night three of them came to my room, 
and having mentioned the circumstance of the 
morning, they asked me if it was correct. I 
answered in the affirmative. 

“Take it down. Jack,” said the questioner. 
So Jack (as he was called) took out a paper and, 
making use of my pen and ink, wrote a record 
of the fact that on such a day such a conversa- 
tion occurred between Henry Singleton and 
Matthew Taylor, and that Mr. Singleton, not 
having the fear of the laws of the college before 
his eyes, and not regarding the superior dignity 
and privileges of Sophomores, he, Mr. Singleton, 
being a Freshman in Yale College, did strike 
the said Mr. Taylor with his clenched fist in a 
fit of anger. Whether the provocation be just 
or unjust is not for the committee to decide. 
They therefore refer the matter for trial to the 
Amphictyonic Council, 

I did not know what that meant, but supposed 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


55 


it was some mode of punishment adopted by the 
college authorities for the violation of their 
rules. 

The committee left me with a respectful 
“ Good night,” and I threw myself upon my bed 
wondering what would come of it. 

The next day, after the visit of the committee 
from the Amphictyonic Council^ I missed my 
lessons, that is to say, in one of the recitations 
I “fizzled,” and in another I “flunked.” A 
“fizzle” is an imperfect lesson, a “flunk” is a 
total failure. 

As a consequence of this I was asked to wait 
after hours to meet the faculty. This was my 
first failure, so I hoped for mercy. The profes- 
sors spoke kindly to me, told me that generally I 
had been regular in attendance and understood 
my studies, but they had latterly noticed a 
growing indifference, and my manner indicated 
some trouble preying upon my mind. The one 
nearest to me put his hand upon my head and 
stroked my hair, and asked the cause of this. 
It was a private matter, so I was determined I 
would not tell. And I did not, and, although 
the big tears stood in the corners of my eyes, I 


66 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


set my teeth firmly together and said nothing. I 
consequently got the credit of. being very stub- 
born. The President of the college then gave 
me a severe reprimand and sent me to my 
room. 

This new mortification made me desperate. 
I determined that, come what would, I never 
would enter the class-room without perfect les- 
sons. And I did not until the end of my Sopho- 
more year. 

I hoped that this was what the Sophomores, on 
the previous evening, meant as the Amphidyonic 
Council. But I was very much mistaken. For 
that evening, just after we had returned from 
prayers, some one knocked at my door, and, as I 
opened it, four men with masks entered, and, 
without saying a word, took me by force to the 
South College, and up-stairs to the highest part 
of the building. One of them then gave a rap 
with his cane upon the upper panel of the door, 
at the same time saying, “Open ! Open ! Open !” 
in a deep, sepulchral voice. 

The door was opened and not a word was 
spoken. It was pitch dark. I was led three 
times around the room in one direction, then 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


57 


twice in the opposite direction, and then by 
unseen hands was thrust this way and that, and 
twirled about without ceremony, and not very 
gently either. I was then blindfolded and my 
hands tied behind me. 

Then a voice, which I recognized, (and I 
marked it, too, in my mind, ) read the record of 
the committee which visited me the previous 
evening. At its close he asked me in reference 
to the charge of striking the Sophomore, “Guilty 
or not guilty.” With trembling voice I replied, 
“ Guilty, but ” 

“ Hold on,” replied the same voice, “ no 
qualifications are allowed. Ho excuse can be 
urged for a Freshman to use violence against a 
Sophomore.” And then, after a grand flourish 
of eulogy upon the Sophomore class of Yale Col- 
lege, of their dignified position and the figure 
they were destined to make in the world, he took 
the opposite line of remark and spoke of Fresh- 
men as babes just from the arms of the nurse, 
who had not yet shed their milk teeth, and who, 
assuming to themselves privileges beyond their 
years and their station, needed an example of 
thorough discipline. 


68 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


He then said, “Counselors, what say you?” 
And there came forth in a volume of base sound, 
“ To the death I” “To the death I” “To the 
death !” 

Addressing me again the chairman or judge 
said: “ Young man, you hear the sentence pro- 
nounced against you. These gentlemen, mem- 
bers of the Amphictyonic Council, pronounce 
sentence of death against you. It, however, 
remains with the judge upon the bench to modify 
or repeal this verdict, but only upon conditions 
to be hereafter specified. 

They then unbound my eyes, and as I looked 
around I saw a hundred faces in hideous 
masks, with tattoo marks of blood upon the 
cheeks, and great red crosses hanging on their 
breasts. 

Four of them arose, and in solemn procession 
entered an adjoining room and brought out a 
coffin, which they placed directly in front of me. 
On it were two grinning human skulls I I shud- 
dered as I looked, and really believed they were 
going to put me to death. 

They then approached me, untied my hands, 
and began to strip me. I attempted to remon- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


69 


strate, but instantly a hand was placed upon my 
mouth. I was compelled to submit to the deg- 
radation, and was placed naked in the coffin. 
It was then carried around the room, the lights 
being extinguished, and brimstone was burned 
in a dish, the fumes of which were allowed to 
pass through a hole in the bottom of the coffin. 
All this I was obliged to inhale. 

This ceremony finished, the judge came to me 
and said : “ Here is a cup. It contains the 
hemlock by which the great Socrates entered 
into the shades of the spirits.” Then he bade 
me look up, and I saw a sword suspended over 
m3' head. “ This,” he continued, “ is the sword 
of Damocles. It hangs by a single thread. We 
are merciful. You may choose by which of 
these you will die.” ^ 

I was almost dead with fear. I could not 
articulate a word. It seemed as if my throat 
were swelled to thr^ times its usual size. I 
must have swooned, for from that point I re- 
membered nothing. It was late the next day 
when I awoke. I was still naked in the coffin. 
After a long efibrt I recalled the scenes of the 
previous night. I got out of the box and dressed 


60 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


/ myself. I looked at the cup and at the bottle 
that stood near it, and found it labelled “ Whis- 
key.” I saw there was some left in it. I had 
been drugged with the liquor. Over the door 
was a written caution — “JRem6m6er, and treat 
the Sophomores with respect."^’* 

This treatment, in the early part of my college 
life, together with my domestic grief, wrought 
upon my sensitive nature until it produced a 
morbid melancholy. I also thirsted for revenge. 
With the faculty I could get it in no other way 
than by regularity and perfect lessons. With 

Mr. , who had destroyed all the pleasure 

of my home, I longed for a day in the future. 
With the leader of the Sophomore gang, who so 
horribly persecuted me, I determined to get it 
at any price, and in any way that circumstances 
favored. 

This was my condition when I closed my first 
year in college. My standing in my class had 
been reported to my father, who was delighted. 
I returned to his house, only to find a blank, 
dreary, unwelcome place. 

I had not yet tasted of liquor, not even the 
wine upon my father’s table. I had learned to 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


61 


smoke, and my life had become embittered, and 
I found revenge a sweet passion to cherish. It 
seemed as if these things were conspiring for 
my downfall. 


CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 


GIVING SOME VACATION EXPERIENCES. 

HAD passed through my Freshman 
year at college. My return home 
was a pleasure, hut yet weighed 
down with the great sorrow caused 
by the unnatural loss of my mother. If she had 
been dead I could have borne it more easily, but 
the disgrace attaching to it stung my pride and 
mortified me exceedingly. 

My father received me with more manifesta- 
tions of feeling than I had ever before witnessed. 
He took me into the library, and, with much 
emotion, told*^ me the whole story. He then 
charged me never, in his presence, to make any 
allusion to her, as he strove to forget that he 
ever knew her. 

I have often wondered since if he thought of 

how much this prohibition carried with it. 

62 



THE WRECKMASTEK. 


63 


I was never to mention that dearest to me of all 
names — “ Mother !” 

My heart was ready to burst ! I must have 
been made up of a strange compound. My 
grief and mortification were largely surcharged 
with anger. And without giving it expression 
in words, I had in my heart already made a 
vow of revenge I 

This feeling was nursed by my loneliness. 
Father kept his study as usual after business 
hours. He had even given up his after dinner 
drives. So that I saw him only at meals, and 
at prayers. And then he seemed so absorbed 
with his own thoughts, as scarcely to address a 
word to me. So that for the first fortnight I 
was left entirely to myself. 

At first I wandered up and down Broadway, 
looking at the various objects of interest, and 
studying the faces of that interminable pro- 
cession of humanity, which flows, like the tide, 
through that magnificent thoroughfare. But I 
soon wearied of that. Each day came to be as 
the last, until I longed for some new excitement. 

One day I stopped in front of the Park Theatre, 
and read the bill of performances through. A 


64 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


star actor from England was that night to 
make his first appearance. The play was to he 
“Othello,” from Shakspeare. 

Now my father had made a special study of 
the great dramatist, and often in our rides, in 
former days, would quote many long passages 
from his works, and point out their beauties, 
and show how true to human nature he was in 
his delineations of character. And “ Othello” 
was one of his favorite plays. 

I thought, as I read, how I should like to 
see this play rendered by a professional artist. 
But my education had excluded theatrical per- 
formances from the list of my amusements. So 
that I turned away with a sigh, wishing that I 
had a little more liberty, at least enough to allow 
me to see a play of such a character as “Othello. ” 

Just then I felt a familiar slap on my shoulder, 
and turning met the eyes of one of my class- 
mates. 

“Halloo Classmate,” he said, “I’m glad I 
met you. Are you going to see Kemble to-night. 
I saw you reading the bill just now.” 

“Well, no,” I replied, “I — I — guess not. 
Father don’t like me to go to the theatre.” 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


65 


“O pshaw,!” he said, “Mine doesn’t like it 
either, and I have a regular fight with the old 
lady every time I go. But you know they have 
to let me do as I please.” 

I was shocked at this mode of speaking of his 
parents. But, then, I knew Shaw (for that was 
his name) to be a real good fellow. He was at 
least two years older than myself, and I began 
to think that I must be a little soft or green, 
and that he talked and acted more like a man. 

I asked him what time the theatre let out. 

He said he guessed about eleven o’clock, and 
then the people generally went to some saloon 
and took some oysters or ice cream, and got 
home about twelve. 

I then told him that I thought I would not go. 
For I knew that if I was not at prayers at nine 
o’clock, that my father would inquire where 
I was. 

“Well, Singleton, here take a cigar, and let’s 
take a walk up Broadway.” 

I took the cigar, and Shaw put his hat on one 
side of his head, and we started. 

He was dressed in very flashy style. His coat 
was the swallow-tail pattern. His gloves were 


66 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


tan-colored kids. His boots polished to perfec- 
tion. His breeches were a rich brown velvet, 
and buckled around his black silk stockings, at 
the knee, with a broad silver clasp. And he 
wore a cockade. -For these were the fashions in 
those days. I looked upon him with perfect 
admiration, and said: “O, that I were such 
a man.” 

I felt proud to be in his company, and thought 
that every body that looked at him admired him, 
and also envied me his society. 

We strolled into a couple of picture galleries, 
and Shaw pretended to point out the finest paint- 
ings. He did this in so loud a voice as to 
attract the attention of others present. 

“There,” he would say, “that is a genuine 
Dutch picture. I could tell that as far as I 
could see it. Don’t you see how they render 
every thing just as it is, and without any regard 
to effect ? That cow in the foreground is full 
size, and so are those deer a quarter of a mile 
off*, and yet no allowance is made for the dis- 
tance. And see that rooster on that church 
steeple. Why, it looks as if they had no thought 
that that height would diminish the apparent 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


67 


size. By the way, Singleton, you are a Dutch- 
man — why do they always have the cock on the 
ehurch spire ?” 

lie said this with such an air and such a tone 
of voice as to make the by-standers burst out 
into a laugh. 

I felt considerably nettled, and felt the blush 
burning my face, and innocently replied, that I 
did not know. 

Just then an elderly looking gentleman stepped 
up and said, “Perhaps I can help you, young 
man.” I immediately recognized our pastor, 
the great John A. Livingston, although he did 
not recognize me. 

He turned to Shaw and asked him if he read 
his Bible. 

Shaw with a swagger said: “I used to, but I 
have got beyond that now.” 

“Got beyond it, have you?” said the clergy- 
man, laying his hand gently upon his shoulder. 
“Young man, never get be3’^ond reading the 
Word of God. Now, if you had been familiar 
with it, you could at least have adopted a theory 
for the cock upon the steeple. Don’t you re- 
member reading of Peter, who said he would 


68 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


never deny his Master, and the Lord saying 
that he did not know his own heart, but that 
he would deny him that night before the cock 
should crow? Our Holland fathers from this 
circumstance thought this would serve the 
double purpose of a weather vane and a symbol. 
It could warn the people and say to them, 
‘Watch, lest ye enter into temptation,’ and al 
tlie same time indicate the direction of the wind. 
There is a lesson in this, young men. Never 
deny Him who bought you, and be watchful 
against temptation.” 

Shaw looked crest-fallen, and finding the eyes 
of those present fixed upon him gave me a nudge 
on the elbow and said, “ Come, let’s go.” 

It was near my dining hour, so I tried to ex- 
cuse myself to go home. But Shaw would not 
listen te it. He said we were “in for it,” and 
might as well “make a day of it.” 

I yielded to his persuasion, and we went into 
a sort of restaurant and drinking saloon known 
as “ The Pewter Mug.” 

Shaw ordered oysters and ale. I had never 
tasted ale before. O, how bitter it was ! Every 
mouthful made me draw my lips. But Shaw 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


69 


drank his down almost at a gulp, and rapped 
upon the table with his knife, and cried out, 
“Here, waiter, give us a glass of ’alf and ’alf.’’ 
Then he asked me “to be filled up.” I de- 
clined, but still continued to drink what I had 
in my glass. 

After awhile my head began to swim, and I 
became quite talkative. Shaw gave me a cigar, 
and I began to smoke. The close room, the 
fumes of tobacco and the ale together, made me 
feel quite sick. However, I stood it out. ^ 

We whiled away the time until evening, when 
I told my companion that I must return home, 
as my father would be anxious about me since I 
was not there to dinner. 

Again he would not hear of an excuse. I 
then thought of what Dr. Livingston had said 
about temptation, and determined I would go. 

So we crossed over into Chatham Street, and 
walked down until we came opposite the theatre. 
There was a great crowd there. Shaw said 
“there was a rush for tickets,” and asked me to 
wait until he procured one for himself. 

It took him some time to do this, so I amused 
myself by listening to the conversation of the 


70 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


crowd. All seemed to be enthusiastic over the 
newly arrived actor^ They talked about the 
Kemble family as all being actors; about the 
elder Kemble and Mrs. Siddons and Garrick. 
They spoke of his passion in his i)lays as being 
so powerful as even to frighten his fellow actors. 
Others said they would not miss the opportunity 
of seeing him for a hundred dollars. Before 
Shaw returned I was wrought to a very high 
state of excitement, and regretted that I had 
not told him to procure a ticket for me. I then 
determined to place myself in the line and get 
one anyhow, and had just done so when the cry 
came, “The office is closed. Every seat is 
sold.” 

The crowd began to disperse, some grumbling, 
and others cursing their ill-luck, when Shaw 
came running to me and said, “ See here. Single- 
ton, I’ve got ’em,” at the same time displaying 
two tickets. 

“But you’ve got two,” I said. 

“Of course, I have,” he replied. “Do you 
think I’d desert a friend in distress. Kow, see 
here, classmate, this here ticket is for you, and 
you are going to the Old Park to-night and see 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


71 


Kemble play Othello. There ’s no ‘ nay ’ to 
that, you know. Heigh boy ?” 

He put his arm through mine, and again we 
sauntered. We had about two hours yet before 
the doors of the theatre would be opened. 

“Come along,” he said, “and let’s see a 
little life.” 

He led me down Barclay Street, pretty near to 
the wharf on the East Eiver. He knocked at 
the door of what seemed to be a private resi- 
dence, which was opened immediately by a 
colored man, who greeted Shaw with a smile of 
welcome. Shaw winked at him, and I overheard 
him say, “a bird.” 

I did not know, until some time afterward, 
what this expression meant. I found out, how- 
ever, that it was one “ to be caught and plucked.” 
It was a gambler’s phrase, and we were in a 
gaming house. 

The hall and stairs were richly carpeted, and 
the little parlor we entered resembled, to all 
appearance, the reception room of a gentleman’s 
residence. 

A negro boy came and took our hats and 
canes, and asked if we would send up our cards. 


72 


THE WKECKMASTER. 


I handed iiiy visiting card — the first I had had 
engraved. Shaw handed his, and wrote some- 
thing upon it in pencil, and the hoy disap- 
peared. 

In a few moments he returned and asked if 
the gentlemen would have some refreshments. 
We followed him into an adjoining room where 
was spread a table, around which were seated a 
number of fine looking and well dressed gen- 
tlemen. 

We were waited upon very attentively, and 
in the most courteous manner. Shaw asked the 
waiter for some “green seal.” The waiter 
brought a pint bottle with a French label, on 
which I saw the word “Champagne.” The 
waiter was about to uncork it when Shaw took 
it from his hand, and with the back of his knife 
gave the neck a single blow which cut it as clean 
as if Jt were wax. This feat attracted the 
attention of the other gentlemen present, who 
seemed to admire it very much. 

One of them left his seat and came directly 
opposite to us. 

“Ah, Shawl I thought that it must be you. 
There ’s no one can uncork the green seal as 


THE WItECKMASTER. 


73 


you can. But where have you been? I have 
not met you at our club for a long time.” 

“Been? Why, at Yale College. I am now 
duly matriculated by order of the Pater Familias 
into the mysterious order of Freshmen, and am 
henceforth to look upon Collegium Yalensis as 
my Alma Mater, until I shall attain ad gradum 
Baculaurei in Artibus, by the favor of Praeses, 
Curatores eb Professores — that’s how the cow 
runs.” 

This speech, uttered in his usual loud man- 
ner, caused all present to burst out into loud 
laughter. 

Shaw passed the bottle across the table, and 
invited his friend to drink to the health and 
future prosperity of Henry Singleton. 

This mode of introduction obliged me to rise 
and make my bow to the gentleman whom he 
called “Jones.” 

I swallowed the contents of my glass, which 
was the most delicious draught I had ever 
tasted. We three then engaged in a lively con- 
versation while we partook of other delicacies, 
which were furnished us very bountifully. 

“I say, Singleton,” said Shaw, “This fodder 


74 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


is not to be despised, eh? especially when we 
get it all for nothing.” 

“Yes,” said Jones: “Our landlord is very 
liberal. All his patrons are well cared for as to 
‘the inner man.’ ” 

“You speak after the fashion of the Greeks,” 
replied Shaw. The allusion was to the phrase 
as to which is the usual construction of a cer- 
tain Greek preposition. 

“Of course, I do,” replied Jones, “I never 
went to college, but you know my father is a 
clergyman, and I was pretty well drilled in the 
rudiments of the dead languages.” 

I began to think I was in good company after 
all. Here I had the son of a clergyman for a 
new acquaintance, besides a good dinner, and 
pleasant, intelligent society. 

I tried to quiet my conscience with these 
considerations, which had disturbed me very 
much since I entered the mysterious dwelling. 
Besides, I could not help thinking, all the while, 
of the advice Dr. Livingston had given us that 
morning. 

By this time the wine began to work, and my 
tongue was loosed. I talked very rapidly, and, 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


75 


I expect, very foolishly. Shaw asked me for a 
song, and all the gentlemen present who had 
finished supper gathered around us, and echoed 
his words, “A song I a song I” 

I had a good voice, and had learned several 
very pretty airs. So I sung. My effort was 
received with rapturous applause, and all came 
forward and shook hands with me. One called 
for more wine, and they all drank my health. 
I took a second glass, and then followed Shaw 
into what he called the “Sanctum sanctorum,” 
or the “ Penetralia of the Temple.” 

Here were a number of small tables, at which 
were seated gentlemen, in perfect silence, engaged 
in card playing, a little pile of gold lying be- 
tween each'pair. 

Jones invited me to try a hand. I told him 
that I had but very little acquaintance with 
cards, but yet consented. I put down a five 
dollar gold piece, and he matched it. We 
played, and I won! Elated at my success, I 
was about to put down the ten dollars for 
another trial, when Shaw said it was time to go 
to the theatre. 


CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 


NARRATING SOME VACATION EXPERIENCES OP A 
DIFFERENT CHARACTER. 

wine I had taken, the brilliant 
tits of the theatre, the crowded 
i well dressed audience, together 
h the novelty of the occasion, 
almost turned my brain. I seemed to have 
entered a new world, and wondered why I had 
been prohibited from enjoying such pleasure for 
so long a time. 

When the curtain rose there was a thundering 
round of applause, and when Mr. Kemble stepped 
forward and made his bow the whole mass rose 
to their feet. They shouted and cheered as if 
their throats would burst. Ladies waved their 
handkerchiefs. I joined with them most heartily. 
Indeed the excitement had already worked upon 
me to that extent that before the play had fairly 
begun I was moved to tears. 

76 



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In the Thenthe. — 1‘ 






THE WRECKMASTER. 


77 


I watched every particular with the most in- 
tense interest. Being familiar with all the parts 
of the play, it all seemed instinct with life. It 
lost its fictitious character and became, to my 
mind, a reality. And when at length Othello 
went to the bed-side of his sleeping wife and 
smothered her, I rose to my feet and cried out 
at the top of my voice, “ Stop him I Stop him ! 
Murder ! Murder I” 

Shaw pulled me down to my seat, and said, 
“ Why, Singleton, you are making a fool of your- 
self.” The attention of the audience was turned 
to me, and although the terrible tragedy was 
going on before their eyes, they burst out into 
loud laughter. 

I was mortified, and sunk down into my seat 
ashamed of myself. And to add to my chagrin 
a police officer tapped me upon the shoulder and 
said, ‘‘Young man come with me.” 

Shaw immediately interceded for me — told him 
that it was the first time that I had attended a 
theatrical performance, and assured him that 
there would be no more disturbance. Several 
young men came across the gallery who proved 
to be my college-mates. They had recognized 


78 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


my voice, and forseeing difficulty liad come over 
to my assistance. 

The officer withdrew, but I plead with Shaw 
to let me go home. And as the main play was 
just closing, he concluded to go with me. 

Kemble came before the curtain in response 
to the loud demand of the people, and acknowl- 
edged the compliment they had paid him upon 
his first appearance upon the boards of an Ameri- 
can stage, and added, that the involuntary ex- 
clamation of the gentleman, in the final act of the 
tragedy, was the best testimonial to his attempts 
truthfully to represent the genius of Shakspeare 
that he had ever received. 

I was thunder-struck. Without intending it 
I had become a hero. I took Shaw’s arm, and 
together we hurried into the street. 

Shaw insisted that I was in a too high state 
of excitement to return home immediately, and 
proposed that we should wait awhile in the bar- 
room of the old Merchant’s Hotel. 

I seemed to have had no will of my own that 
night. Of course, I assented. And we took 
some more wine, one, two — three glasses ! 

That is the last I knew of myself. The next 


THE WKECKMASTER. 


79 


day I awoke about eleven o’clock in the morn- 
ing, and found old Pierre (Hernando’s father,) 
standing by my side. 

I asked him what it all meant. He told me 
in few words that I had been brought home in a 
state of intoxication, and that the gentleman had 
assisted him in getting me to bed. 

I then asked for my father. Pierre said that 
he had inquired about me and came in the room 
before he went to the office and looked at me, 
and gave two or three expressive— ahems — and 
said, “ That boy must be attended to.” 

I did not know what this meant, but I feared 
something terrible. 

The result was made known sooner than I ex- 
pected. 

Pierre brought a note from my father telling 
me to get my clothing ready, as he wished me to 
spend the remainder of my vacation in the coun- 
try, and that some friends would call with a 
carriage at three o’clock that afternoon with 
whom I was to go. He did not say where I was 
to go, nor with whom. He also sent an ample 
sum of money, and added in a postscript, “Enjoy 
yourself rationally, but do not become a beast.' ^ 


80 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


And this was the penalty for my disobedience 
and my gross dissipation I Its very mildness 
drew me more closely to my father than I had 
ever before been. 

The friends came at the time appointed. I 
found in them old acquaintances of our family, 
and one of them a young man about my own 
age and his sister two years younger. 

I was informed that we were destined to spend 
the months of July and August at Plattsburg, on 
Lake Champlain. This place was shortly after- 
ward the scene of a battle between the American 
and British forces. 

We took a sloop from one of the upper piers 
on the Hudson river. Those were different days 
from the present. We were four days sailing to 
Albany. We then took a stage to Ballston 
Springs, where we remained for three days. And 
then again we went to Ticonderoga, and took 
another sloop for Plattsburg. 

I had never been from home before. The 
scenery along the Hudson, the visit to the Capi- 
tol at Albany, the fashionable company at the 
Springs, the ride over to the lake, and the differ- 
ent scenery along its banks all was new and 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


81 


beautiful, and intensely interesting. I found 
my company very agreeable. They had evi- 
dently not been informed of the cause of my 
banishment, but took me in their society to ac- 
commodate my father and to be a companion 
for their son. 

Mr. Olcott had been in the same line of busi- 
ness with my father, but had retired with a 
competency. He usually took his family to 
some secluded summer resort, for he feared the 
influence of the more fashionable and popular 
places upon their morals and manners. 

The place he had selected this year was de- 
lightfully situated in a deep cove of the lake, 
and looking across the lake upon the mountains 
of Vermont, and in the west upon the Adiron- 
dacks of New York. 

The hotel where we stopped was the best in 
the place, and was the resort of a few families 
year by year. The proprietor did not aspire to 
keep pace with Ballston Springs or Cape May, 
but sought to make a quiet home for his guests. 
But his charges were large in proportion as the 
comforts abounded. 

The fishing in the lake was excellent. There 
6 


82 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 


were salmon there at that time, but I am told 
there are none now. Then a short distance up 
the Saranac river, which enters the lake at this 
point, there was excellent trout fishing. We 
were well provided with tackle, and had rare 
sport. 

There were also deer in the neighborhood, and 
in the edge of the great Adirondack forest they 
Avere said to abound in great numbers. 

Mr. Olcott, his son George and myself planned 
for a grand deer hunt. We took Avith us two 
famous guides, and Avith two teams and provis- 
ioning for a week Ave started for the mountains. 

By night we arrived at a hovel, at a place since 
named Franklin, Avhere we made our headquar- 
ters. 

The guides stationed us at certain points on 
the lake, while they each, with four dogs chained 
to a yoke, which they wore over the shoulders, 
started out in opposite directions in search of 
game. We each had a light boat at our dispo- 
sal with a lumberman to row us toAvard the deer, 
if any should be driven into the water. 

It was not long before we heard the baying 
of the hounds which had been let loose upon a 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


83 


scent. Now they seemed to be close at hand, 
and now again a great distance off. At length 
the sound came nearer. Suddenly I heard a 
crashing in the bushes near me, and behold there 
bounded forth a noble buck I His eyes glared, 
his tongue protruded and he breathed as if ex- 
hausted. He paused a moment in the attitude 
of listening, and then plunged into the water. 

At first I was so startled that I did not know 
how to act. My boatman said, “Why don’t 
you shoot. Now is your time.” 

I raised my gun to my shoulder and fired I 1 
do n’t know what became of the deer, but I found 
myself full length upon the ground and bleeding 
profusely. The gun had bursted at the breech, 
and the pieces had been thrown back into ray 
^ shoulder, and broken the collar bone, and lacera- 
ted the flesh terribly. 

My boatman lifted me in the boat and quickly 
brought me to Mr. Olcott. He bound up my 
shoulder the best he could, and we made our 
way back to quarters. 

They made me a comfortable bed in one of the 
wagons, and we drove homeward. The loss of 
blood and the jolting of the wagon over the 


84 


THE WRECKMASTER, 


rough mountain roads reduced me very much,- 
so that I was brought to the hotel in a very 
weak and dilapidated condition. My deer hunt 
was very expensive. 

And yet every thing has its fair side. 

Of course, I was obliged to remain in-doors. 

Mr. Olcott and George found abundance to do 
to carry out their plans for daily amusement and 
recreation. But Mrs. Olcott was a very tender 
nurse, but I thought her little daughter a better 
nurse than herself. 

Helen, (for that was her name,) was of fiiir 
complexion, light blue eyes, and rather under 
size for her age, she being, at this time, fourteen 
years old. 

Every morning after my wounds had been 
dressed, and the room arranged, she would knock 
at the door and ask if she could read to me. 
And when she became tired of the reading she 
would take her work-basket and seat herself at 
the window looking over the lake and engage in 
sewing. Sometimes she would sing for me. 

I did not tell her. But at that time she stole 
into my heart. Boy as I was, I felt the tender- 
ness of love. It seemed to lift up my ii'*'^ure. 


THE WllECKMASTER. 


85 


And I thought how nice it would be to be loved 
— and by such a sweet, pure girl ! I who had 
known but little of a mother’s love, and from 
whom my father had kept at such a dignified dis- 
tance — I wanted some body to love me. 

I said to her one day, “ Helen, when we return 
to Kew York, I hope we ’ll see a good deal of 
each other.” 

“ I hope so,” she said, “ but you ’ll be at New 
Haven, you know.” 

“Yes, that’s true; But won’t you write to 
me.” 

“ I will, if mother approves of it.” 

Her mother entered just then, and in her sim- 
ple, artless manner, she said : “Mother, may I 
write to Henry when he returns to College.” 

The mother, for the moment, hesitated, and 
looking at her daughter, as if to assure herself 
that she was still her little girl, she said, “ cer- 
tainly, my dear, if Henry wishes it.” 

This was all that was said at the time. It 
was the beginning of— of— what shall 1 say ? 
joys? Yes, many and delightful; sorrows? 
Yes, bitter, too bitter for such an one as she was. 

I very nearly recovered from my accident by 


80 


THE WRECK MASTER. 


the time appointed for our return to !N^ew York, 
My father had been apprized of it, and had 
written to me every week, and to Mr, Olcott, 
telling him to spare no expense for surgeons 
or for nursing. 

Little did he know of who were my nurses, or 
of what had already came of it. 


CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. 


WHICH INDICATES AN APPROACHING CRISIS IN THE 
. HISTORY OP THE WRECKMASTER. 

ENTERED upon my Sophomore 
year at college with good resolutions. 
At the same time I felt disposed to 
congratulate myself that I had become 
so much of a man I Sixteen years old, at the 
head of my class, having learned to smoke, to 
drink champagne, to go to the theatre, to 
engage in a deer hunt and get wounded, and to 
he in love ! Pretty well, I thought for a Fresh- 
man. I wondered what the Sophomore would 
become. 

I resolved, however, that come what would, 
I would study hard. I really loved study. 
Besides, I was actuated by a natural ambition 
to excel. I always wanted to gratify my father, 
and nothing pleased him better than to know 
that I was following his example as a student 

87 



88 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


But now I felt a little something way down in 
the bottom of my trembling heart which acted 
as an additional stimulus. I need not say it 
was the image of my dear little traveling com- 
panion and nurse at Plattsburgh. For her 
sake I would acquit myself well, and hear my- 
self honorably, like a true-hearted man. And 
for the most part of this year I firmly main- 
tained my high resolve. 

Among the first to greet me as I walked 
across the common, and beneath the grand old 
elms which surround the college, was my jolly, 
fast friend, Shaw. 

If possible, he was dressed even more fanci- 
fully than when we left him in New York. It 
was evident that he intended to make an impres- 
sion upon some one, by his appearance, if he 
could not in any other way. 

In his familiar way he took my arm and ac- 
companied me to my room. After I had ar- 
ranged my books and wardrobe, he proposed a 
walk. Together we strolled down to the water 
and along the shore, while he narrated to me his 
vacation experiences. He had not left the city 
at all, he said, but spent the most of his time at 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


89 


the house in Barclay street, where he had intro- 
duced me. I felt flattered by his information 
that the gentleman to whom I had been intro- 
duced, had made repeated and particular inqui- 
ries about me, and I promised Shaw that I 
would go with him again when we should re- 
turn to Kew York. / 

Shaw then asked me to narrate my adventures, 
which I did in all particulars, except the deli- 
cate little afiair of Miss Olcott. For, to tell the 
truth, I felt a little suspicious and jealous of my 
friend. I feared that he might find her out and 
make her acquaintance, and being such a dashy, 
flashy, off-hand, free-and-easy sort of a fellow, he 
might make an impression there which would 
deprive me of my prize. 

Yet, how often we lose when we endeavor to 
gain ! I pulled out my handkerchief from mj” 
pocket and with it there came a letter. It was 
the first one I had received from her. And I 
was cherishing it by carrying it as close to my 
heart as possible. 

Shaw picked it up and looked at the address, 
and cried out ; ‘‘Halloo, Singleton ! a letter from 


90 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


a lady I Why you ’ve got no mother nor sister. 
I suppose this must be from some cousin ?” 

I felt angry with him and demanded my letter. 
He felt disposed to tease me. So he went off a 
little distance and pretended to open and read 
it. I am certain he did not, but I afterwards 
found out that he did see the signature. 

In those days letters were not placed in envel- 
opes as now, and in folding up the sheet I had 
left her name on the outside. 

He returned me the letter, saying, he could not 
resist the temptation to have a little fun. He 
patted me on the back, calling me a good fellow, 
and told me to “ count him in ” as one of the 
groomsmen at my wedding I 

This instead of angering, so far elated me that 
I was upon the verge of telling him the whole 
story. 

But Shaw was so full of his own important 
self, that he was never at ease unless he was 
talking about something which in some way re- 
flected upon his own greatness. 

“ What do you think, Singleton,” he said, 
“ we have our class greeting to-night and I am 
the appointed orator.” 


V 


THE WRECKMA6TER. 


91 


I had forgotten this arrangement which was 
made at the close of the last term. I told him I 
should certainly be present. 

“But, Singleton,” he said, “I want you to 
do me a favor. You know the charm of all 
public addresses lies in the applause which is re- 
ceived. If you attend a meeting at the Taber- 
nacle, you know that when there is ‘ a good hit ’ 
made by the orator, there is a tremendous 
amount of stamping and clapping. This stimu- 
lates the speaker, and besides it looks well in 
print to see in brackets the words ‘applause,’ 
‘great applause,’ ‘hear, hear,’ ‘sensation,’ 
‘ tremendous applause, during which the speaker 
retired.’ Now, if you will do me this favor, 
you can command me for anything you please, 
and I will be at your service. You see, I know 
the ropes. I have found out at the Old Park 
Theatre, a certain number of-mien are employed 
whose business it is to take places in different 
parts of the house, and at certain points in the 
play to begin the clapping and stamping. I 
have not spoken to any one else, but if you will, 
at the close of my sentences, start the thing in 


92 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


the hall to-night, you will place me under ever- 
lasting obligations, you know.” 

Well, I thought there could be no harm in it, 
although I began to feel disgusted at the intol- 
erable vanity of the fellow. I told him I would 
do it. 

But after all there was no necessity for any 
such arrangement. For it seemed that Shaw 
had been selected, because the boys knew he 
would make a fool of himself and that was just 
what they wanted. 

Among Shaw’s numerous weaknesses was a 
ridiculous amount of family pride. He was a 
Shaw I And although others did not know of 
any particular glory attaching to that name, yet 
he thought the sun rose and set with his family. 

He had a family tree suspended in his room. 
And woe to the stranger who visited him ! For 
he was compelled to follow him through the 
whole genealogical history. This one married 
a Johnson, and that one a Smith, and another a 
Brown. This one had so many children who 
settled in Pennsylvania, and that family were in 
Virginia, and had married among the Ban- 
dolphs, who were descended from Pocahontas. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


93 


That one was a major in the British army, and 
had spent so many years in His Majesty’s ser- 
vice in India. This one was a drummer-boy 
and was seriously wounded in the battle of 
Bunker Hill. And so he .would go on, until 
one was tempted to say something more than 
“ pshaw I pshaw !” 

I had been through this crucible several times. 
And nearly all the class had the same cross to 
bear. So that when Shaw commenced his 
speech they were all prepared for a regular 
“ break down ” of applause. 

He had put on his gloves. His hair was 
powdered and tied up in a cue. He had bull' 
breeches clasped at the knee by a silver buckle, 
which at the same time held his tight-fitting 
black silk stockings. 

He made a very profound bow to his audience 
which immediately broke out into prolonged ap- 
plause. After they had ceased he bowed again, 
and this time after clearing his throat and 
throwing forward his arm, as he had seen Kem- 
ble do, on the stage, began. 

“My name is not Norval, but Shaw. I did 
not feed my father’s fiocks upon the Grampian 


94 


THE WHECKMASTER. 


hills, for none of my line were ever shepherds. 
I am sprung from a line of kings. I trace my 
ancestry back, back, back, through the centuries, 
to Kichard, the lion-hearted, and his spirit has 
dwelt in all the race. (Tremendous applause.) 

“There are other Shaws. There are among 
them, I doubt not, those of plebeian blood, who 
themselves are hewers of wood, and drawers of 
water, and whose ancestry like Gurth were the 
herders of swine in the forests of Britain. But, 
I have my tree which in all its branches indi- 
cates that the Shaws from whom I came, were 
blue-veined, and those of the slim hand and the 
long, flat foot.” (Shaw had a remarkable foot 
which had often caused remark, so that this 
sentence was duly appreciated.) And again the 
house “came down” like thunder in token of 
full approbation. 

He continued — 

“ There is in our town a Shaw who has gained 
considerable notoriety as a lawj^er, judge, and 
member of Congress. But I disdain to hold any 
connection with him. For he, too, rose from 
obscurity, and even his honors can not ofiset his 
base blood. I am not his by any tie. I am not 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


95 


even his neighbor, nor his neighbor’s wife, (ap- 
plause) nor his man-servant, nor his maid-ser- 
vant, (applause) nor his ox, (applause) nor his 
ass, (tremendous applause, during which the 
speaker was very much moved) but I am Shaw 
of blood royal, removed for political considera- 
tions from the broad acres of my fathers to this 
land, eplurihus unum. United we stand, divided 
we fall.” (Great applause.) 

This was the introduction to his oration of 
welcome as they now entered upon the glorious 
career of Sophomores in Yale College. And it 
conveys a fair outline of his composition as a 
man. 

You may be sure that fun-loving College boys 
did not permit such an exhibition to die with 
themselves. 

One of the class lived at a little village a short 
distance from Kew Haven, and he proposed to 
some of his comrades to procure an invitation 
for Mr. Shaw to deliver an address there. The 
arrangement was heartily endorsed by them all, 
and it was not long before it was known to the 
whole college that Shaw had proved himself 


96 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


such a superior orator that he was to he invited 
to speak at Anson ia. 

In the course of two or three days he received 
a note as follows : 

“Mr. O. Shaw,— 

“ Dear Sir : Having heard of your oration of 
welcome delivered before your class in college, 
on the evening of the 14th inst., and feeling that 
it is unjust to yourself and to the public, that 
the exhibition of such unusual powers should be 
limited to a single room and a single class in 
college, we the undersigned, representing the 
entire community of Ansonia, most respectfully 
request that you will favor us with an address 
upon any topic you may select, and at such time 
as may suit your convenience. 

“ An early answer is requested. 



Joseph R. Hawley, 
Mahlon Benedict, 
Ebenezer Hotchkiss. 


“P. S. We especially request that the intro- 
duction to your speech in your class-room be re- 
peated entire.” 

Shaw brought this invitation to me. I was 
already in the secret. I did not altogther like 
to see him make a fool of himself. And yet I 
thought it might do him good. Besides, I felt a 
little piqued because he looked at the letter from 
my Hew York favorite. 


THE WRECKMASTEB. 


97 


When he asked my opinion, I said, “Go, 
certainly. It may be the making of you. Once 
establish a reputation in this classic vicinity for 
oratory and your fortune is made. On the 
flood tide of popularity, who knows ? you may 
proudly float into the congressional halls at 
' Washington, and perchance into the Presidential 
chair.” 

If anything was required to be added to the 
laudations already received by the students for 
his first efibrt, and the invitation he had re- 
ceived from the Trustees of an Academy to ap- 
pear in public in their village, to burst this 
bubble of vanity, it was just such a speech as I 
made to him. 

He put his cockade on his head in a jaunty 
way, thrust his thumbs into the arm-holes of 
his waistcoat, threw his head back, and for 
some minutes strode up and down the room. 
A peacock with comb and ruffle, head and tail I 

When he stopped, he said, “ Singleton, I 
never thought it would come to this so soon. I 
Knew I had it in me and that at some day it 
would come out. But while in the Sophomore 
class, to overtop Juniors and Seniors, and to be 
7 


98 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


complimented by a whole village besides, for the 
greatest of all powers, oratory, w'hy it is a 
surprise to myself ! I tell you what, old fellow, 

I owe you one, and you may bet that I ’ll pa}’’ 
you with interest. It was you, my jolly old 
cove, (taking my hand and slapping me upon 
the shoulder,) it was you that helped to do it. 
It was the applause which you started in the 
hall. Count upon me old fellow for any service 
hereafter. But I owe a good deal of it, too, to 
my theatrical training. Didn’t you recognize 
a good deal of Kemble in me that night ? espe- 
cially when I was seeking to give expression to 
my indignation at the very thought of being 
supposed to be related to that common lawyer, 
Shaw, of Kew York. Don’t you recall the glare 
of the eye, the grinding of the teeth, the frantic 
forward motion of the body, and the clenched 
fist, combining with a fiery intonation of the 
voice ? I got all that from Kemble. And no^Y 
Singleton, I like you. Take a little advice my 
boy. Go to the theatre. Go often. Get im- 
bued with the mode of speech and action which 
you see there. And then, even though you may 
not possess as great natural gifts as I do, still, 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


99 


you will make your mark. Take my advice and 
he a man.” 

I did not relish this patronizing air very 
much. It had the eflect to make me all the 
more anxious that he should make the speech in 
the village. 

The time was set for Friday evening of the 
same week. The announcement was made in 
the paper, and posted up on the college bulletin. 

When the hour arrived, the large room in the 
Ansonia Academy was crowded to suffocation. 

Shaw was dressed to the very extreme of the 
mode. And when he came upon the platform, 
he was heartily welcomed with applause by feet 
and hands and cat-calls of every description. 

I noticed a gawky looking young man with 
tow head, and hair standing on end, seated just 
in front of me. From his remarks to those 
within hearing, and from theirs to him, I judged 
him to be a singular character in the neighbor- 
hood. He placed his chin between his two 
broad, red hands, with elbows resting upon the 
back of the seat in front of him. He was very 
much interested, and when Shaw got into his 
introduction and began to warm up with indig- 


100 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


nation, referring to Shaw the lawyer, saying, “I 
am not his by any tie whatever. I am not even 
his neighbor, nor his neighbor’s wife, nor his 
man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor 
his ASS” — the country clown cried out, “Whose 
ASS ARE YOU THEN ?” 

Shaw came to a dead stop. The crowd swayed 
too and fro with convulsive laughter. Over and 
over again they shouted and screamed. It was 
impossible to get silence. And when at length 
there came a lull, Shaw was gone I 

I felt both glad and sorry — glad that such a 
bag of wind had been pricked, and that such 
contemptible pride of family in this republican 
country had been humbled, but sorry because he 
had counted upon me as a friend, for I really 
liked the fellow. His fault seemed to be weak- 
ness rather than vice. 

But I was mistaken in even this extent of 
charity. 


CHAPTER THE EIGHTH. 


SHOWING HOW SHAW’s DISCOMFITURE AFFECTED THE 

wreckmaster’s fortunes. 

HE affair at Ansonia was fun to the 
college boys, but death to Shaw ’s 
pride. It seemed to dawn upon his 
mind that the fellows were making 
game of him. 

Without consulting with any of the College 
authorities, or writing to his parents, he packed 
up his books and wardrobe, and left New Haven 
the next day for New York. He stopped at my 
room and handed his card saying, “Good-bye, 
Harry. Here is my address. Come and see me 
in New York, This plage is too much for me.” 

Poor Shaw ! How I pitied him. His lesson 
had come early, but it was severe. If it would 
only take from him that contemptible vanity 
and intolerable self-conceit! But it did not. 

101 



102 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


He only transferred it from one field of opera- 
tions to another. 

I had occasion about a month afterward to 
visit my home. I found my father sick and in 
trouble. His trouble had no doubt produced his 
sickness. He was in danger of failing in busi- 
ness, and it only required two or three days to 
determine whether or not he was sound in his 
business relations. The excitement incident to 
his apparently failing fortunes, had kept him 
from sleep and from his favorite studies, and 
had produced an aggravated form of dyspepsia. 
And this had its usual effect of greatly depress- 
ing his spirits. It even affected his religious 
hopes. 

It was sad to see him such a wreck. His 
hair had turned prematurely gray, and his face 
was haggard. 

He threw his arms around my neck and cried, 
“ O Henry, my boy, my poor child, my son, my 
only son !” It was like David ’s lamentation 
over Absalom. 

My father ’s despair was respecting myself. 
He thought he saw himself shorn of his large 
wealth, and his anxiety was chiefly for me. He 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


103 


seemed to see me already a wandering beggar. 
Alas ! if that had been all, I would, to-day, have 
reason to thank God. 

The crash came as he anticipated. My father 
was bankrupt. With a high sense of honor, 
which was his pride, he delivered up all his 
assets to meet the claims of his creditors. 

With a generosity not usual, they exempted 
from attachment his large and valuable library, 
the family portraits, and enough furniture to 
supply a moderate sized house. 

My grandfather had bequeathed to me two 
houses and lots on Broadway, a little above 
Chambers street. My father had the manage- 
ment of this property, and into one of these 
houses we removed. The rent of the other was 
a partial support for us, and my father became 
a book-keeper in the establishment of which he 
was previously the honored head. 

With cast down look, he daily went to and 
from his office. The firm pitied him, and dealt 
with him very indulgently. So that he retained 
the old negro, and little Hernando with two of 
the female domestics, which had always lived in 
the family. 


]04 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


Of course, his liorses, carriages and all luxuries 
of this sort were disposed of for the benefit of his 
creditors. 

His only brother, with whom and my father 
there had not existed a very friendly feeling for 
a number of years, now came forward and 
craved the favor of being responsible for the 
expenses of my education. My father reluctantly 
accepted the proposition, although for anything 
else than for the object contemplated, he would 
have spurned any assistance. 

During the excitement incident to this great 
change in our circumstances, I was very much 
broken down. My pride was wounded. My 
spirits sympathized with those of my dejected 
father, and I felt more alone than ever. 

I resorted to various expedients to drive away 
the blues. I tried to be a man, and at first took 
the place of adviser to my father. I pictured to 
him the deeper misery of the thousands around 
us in the great city. I told him of other 
instances where merchants had lost, and in a 
few years recovered their fortunes. I spoke of 

the luxury of his library, of his freedom from 

% 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


105 


responsibility in business, of his faithful servants, 
and of my resolution to acquit myself well. 

He listened to me with a smile upon his lips, 
and then moaned out, “Poor boy !” He stroked 
my head and said, “ I did not know your value 
until now. My poor Henry.” 

But it did no good. He sat by the hour, his 
eyes fixed upon the fire in the grate. He would 
answer a question with the fewest possible 
words, and without a change of countenance. 
If visitors called, he would receive them without 
rising from his chair. His “good morning” 
or “good-bye” were uttered mechanically, and 
there was no invitation to come again. 

I went to the theatre. For in his condition, 
at that time, my father paid no attention to my 
movements. 

This was my second visit to the Park Theatre. 
This time it was to direct my thoughts from my 
great burden of troubles. I hardly looked 
around. My interest was all enlisted by the 
play. It was the very same I had witnessed at 
my former visit. As it approached the scene of 
the murder of Desdemona by the Moor, I could 
not help but recall ray conduct at that time. 


106 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


I blushed to think of my verdancy. And, 
then, for the first time, I looked around. I felt 
faint, and came near sinking down in my seat — 
for looking me straight in the face was Shaw, 

and beside him was , could it be ? I looked 

again. She was looking in another direction. 
Evidently she had not seen me. Yes, it was m3’' 
little beauty, my first, best love — my nurse at 
Plattsburgh and my correspondent ! 

I quickly regained my composure as best I 
could. That this should occur just then, in the 
midst of a tragic scene portraying the madden- 
ing passion of jealousy, and then, too, when I 
had enough beside to crush my spirit. O, it 
was too much ! I could not endure it. 

I hastened from the theatre, and entered the 
first bar-room I saw. I called for brandy. I 
then took a cigar, and sat down. Again I 
called for liquor, and drank. I repeated it, 
until I was in a condition of beastly intoxication. 

In the morning I found myself in a little upper 
room of the same tavern, my coat and vest, and 
watch and money all gone I Stolen ! 

I sat down upon the side of the cot, and cried 
like a child. I in that plight! I, the son of 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


107 


Kichard Singleton, a man noted for his high 
moral character, as well as for his honor and 
family position ! I in the position of a common 
drunkard ! Yes, so it was. Thank God, shame 
had not forsaken me. 

I went to the landlord and plead with him 
to lend me some money to procure a coat, so 
that I might get home without attracting atten- 
tion. But he would not do it. I told him who 
I was. He only laughed and said, “ He guessed 
old Singleton couldn’t hold his head so high 
any longer, since them money bags had toppled 
over.” I then asked him to lend me a coat of 
his own. Even this he refused. I then became 
angry, and told him that if he did not do either 
the one or the other within five minutes’ time, I 
would have him arrested for robbery. When 
he saw my determination, he gave me an old 
blue coat out at the elbows, with two brass 
buttons on one side, and a faded velvet collar. 
He said I might have that, if I would return it 
that evening. I promised to do so. 

And a sorrier looking figure, as I buttoned up 
that coat, and drew my hat over my eyes, I 
thought I never saw. But the climax was not 


108 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


yet reached. It was about noon. I had not 
gone a block before I came plump up against— 
Shaw I 

“ Why — whj' ! Singleton, what does this 
mean ?” he said, walking around me and gazing 
at my coat. 

I hurried on without noticing him. He ran 
after me and laid his hand upon my shoulder, 
and said, “Hold on, my boy. I understand 
it all. You can’t go home in that plight, you 
know.” 

I did n’t utter a word, but drew back my fist 
and struck at him, uttering a horrible oath — my 
first oath. May God in his mercy forgive me I 

Shaw parried the blow, and said, “Hold on, 
Singleton, are you mad ? Come with me.” 

By this time my reason had returned, and 
together we turned into a side street, and then 
he proposed, without asking any further ques- 
tions, that I go and get a coat and vest as near 
like those that were stolen as possible. 

I declined going until he should explain the 
circumstance of the previous evening, how it 
was that he was at the theatre with Miss Olcott. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


109 


“ Why easy enough, my poor fellow, easy 
enough I” he replied. 

“ Why, you see, when I picked up a letter of 
yours on a certain occasion in New Haven, I 
happened to see the signature and the address. 
Well, when I came home, I happened to ask my 
sister Nell if she knew this young lady, your 
friend, you know, and she did I AVell, I said, 
‘Nell, the next time you go there, I want to 
accompany you, I have particular reasons for 
wishing to see her.’ And yesterday was the 
day we called. Upon my word, Harry, it was 
the first time I ever saw her. My sister has a 
young fellow gallanting her about, and she hap- 
pened to say to your friend, you know, that we 
were going to Old Park last night, that is herself 
and her friend and myself, that is this identical 
person, Shaw, now standing before you, (re- 
versing his finger and pointing at himself,) and 
asked if we should stop for her with^he carriage, 
if she would not form one of our company. She 
accepted the invitation, and, of course, Nell had 
somebody to care for her, and I had to be the 
gallant for our, that is, your particular friend. 


110 


THE WHECKMASTER. 


That’s all of it. But, Singleton, she is a 
very nice girl.” 

I asked if she saw me at the theatre ? 

He said she did not, but that after I had left, 
he told her that he saw me there. She was 
very much surprised that you did not stop and 
speak with her. 

“I imagined the reason immediately,” said 
Shaw; “and I find by the neat blow you tried 
to plant between my peepers, that I was correct. 
I knew I could not explain then, and so I made 
no sign of recognition, you know, and I did not 
want a scene just then, for Othello was crowning 
his jealousy by that pocket-handkerchief over 
Desdemona’s mouth.” 

Shaw laughed immoderately at this happy 
turn of his explanation. 

I felt more comfortable, and shook hands with 
him, asking his pardon, both for my hasty judg- 
ment of him, and for attempting to strike him. 

I then explained how I got into such a scrape, 
lie loaned me sufficient money to procure a 
coat and vest, after which we separated, and I 
went home. 

My father had just arrived from his office. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


Ill 


He made no inquiry about ni}’- whereabouts the 
previous evening. I must have shown the effects 
of my dissipation, for he looked me in the face, 
and again stroked my head and went over the 
usual phrases, “ My boy, my poor, poor Henry, 
what will become of him!” 

I feared that reason was being dethroned, and 
mentioned it to his old servant, and directed 
him to keep a close watch upon his actions. 
For I suspected he might, in a fit of great 
despair, destroy himself. 

Late in the afternoon I received a note written . 
in a feminine hand. I recognized it, and, trem- 
bling with anxiety, tore it open and read : 

“Dear Henry: — Come to tea with us this 
evening. Papa and mamma both directed me 
to invite you. As ever your true friend, 

Helen Olcott.” 

I had been from college and in the city nearly 
two months, and had not written a word to my 
little friend, nor called upon her. I imagined 
tliat our change of circumstances would make 
her family indifierent to me. 

Of course, I went. I went early, and I staid 
late. O, they were hours of bliss, of sweet, 


112 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


innocent bliss. If it were possible, bow I would 
like to turn the dial of time backward to that 
very day, and begin life over again. But it 
must not, can not.be. The past is beyond re- 
call. O, young men, hoTV solemnly that truth 
falls upon my ears now — The past is beyond 
recall.'*'* 

Helen told me that her father had informed 
the family of the misfortunes which had befallen 
us, and also of my father’s honorable conduct 
in settling with his creditors. They all felt 
very sorry for us, and wished to continue the 
intimacy, but her father had been so coldly 
recei\ied by my father upon the occasion of their 
last meeting, that he was obliged to keep at a 
distance. 

It was evident that they did not understand 
my father’s mental condition. I, therefore, 
took pains to explain it to them while at tea. 
Mr. Olcott said he could now understand his 
manner, both toward himself and others. He 
said he should continue to call upon him, in the 
hope that he might comfort him somewhat. 

I thanked him, and expressed the desire tliat 
he would do so. He rejoined that I must make 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


113 


free to come to his house whenever I had an 
opportunity, and not to let a false pride stand in 
the way of our previous intimacy. 

This delighted me, and I returned home with 
a lighter heart than I had held for many weeks. 
I felt that I had some true friends, and one who 
was more than a friend. 


8 


114 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


CHAPTER THE N^TH. 

WHICH THKOWS THE WEECKMA8TER UPON HIS OWN RE- 
SOURCES. 

the course of a few days, I re- 
turned to college. I was in arrears 
in my studies, and consequently I 
was obliged to work very hard. 

I soon went over the ground my class had 
traversed during my absence, and regained my 
former position of number one. I held it until 
the close of the collegiate year. I took the two 
prizes, one for classics and one for oratory, and 
again returned to my home. 

I did not then think that I should never rest 
my ej^es upon the walls of old Yale again. But 
so it was. 

I found my father much worse than I expect- 
ed. He had for some time ceased to correspond 
with me, and that office had devolved upon 



THE WRECKMASTER. 


115 


Pierre ; and he, from a kind desire not to worry 
me, had put every thing in as favorable a light 
as possible. 

Father had been obliged to give up his situa- 
tion; but the firm had continued his salary. 

Yet the thought of being considered an object 
of pity and charity had pressed heavily upon 
his mind. He was very weak. 

He recognized me, and only said, “My poor 
Henry!” and then wept unceasingly, until I 
wondered where he found so many tears. 

The physician told me that his ability and 
desire to weep was the most hopeful symptom 
in his case, and then, when the tears should 
stop flowing, would occur the crisis in his 
disease; and from that point we might antici- 
pate either entire recovery or hopeless insanity. 

The crisis soon arrived, but, alas! it took 
the unfavorable turn. He stared wildly about 
the room, called loudly upon the name of his 
wife, cursed and swore most horrible oaths, 
and with the carving-knife made an attempt 
upon my life. 

Fortunately Pierre prevented any harm being 
done. This entire reversion of mind and afiec- 


116 


TIIE WRECKMASTER. 


tions was the surest indication of hopeless in- 
sanity. For the pious to become profane, and 
to turn upon the dearest object of love with 
violence, is a common symptom with the con- 
firmed lunatic. 

No alternative remained for us but to remove 
him to the Asylum. There he had the very 
best of nursing and medical attention. But 
it was only for a brief period. Fortunately (I 
say fortunately — for who would not rather see 
a loved one dead than a hopeless lunatic ?) he 
lived but a few weeks. 

We buried him in the family vault beneath 
the Old North Church in Fulton street, where 
we hope he will remain until the resurrection 
morning ; but we fear the ruthless hand of pro- 
gress — that despoiler of the tomb — will, ere long, 
unearth those dear remains. 

I was now alone — an orphan, without father 
or mother, and also without brother or sister. 
It requires that one should experience the sen- 
sation of loneliness thus produced in order to 
understand it. 

The vacated, home ! Home after a funeral I 
O, what feelings creep over the soul ! The ex- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 117 

citement of the sickness and the services has 
passed away. The coming and going of sympa- 
thizing friends have ceased. Even the doctor’s 
gig no longer draws up to the door. A terrible 
reaction takes place. Who has not felt it ? 

I walked through the deserted rooms. I 
looked at the bed where my father slept. I sat 
in his chair in his retired librar;^. When the 
bell announced supper, I went down alone, and 
took my place. Although I had done this for 
some time past, yet it was with a vague hope 
I should again see my father there. 

The darkness of evening came down upon the 
earth, which increased my sense of loneliness. 
It was painful beyond endurance. I tried to 
read, but could not. I even went to the piano, 
but the first note I struck seemed like a rebuke 
for irreverence for the memory of the dead. I 
went to the- kitchen, and tried to divert myself 
by conversation with'The servants ; but they im- 
mediately began crying in a loud, wild wail, 
which only harrowed up my feelings the more. 

What should I do ? I put on my hat and took 
a stroll down Broadway. I did not know where 
my steps were tending. But, as if fate led me 


118 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


on, I found my hand upon the door-bell of the 
gambling house in Barclay street. 

“A strange freak,” you may say. Well, it 
was. I blame myself that I did it, and still I 
yet pity my own forlorn condition, and seek to 
cover the fault with a mantle of charity. 

I sent up my card for Shaw, who I knew made 
that place his nightly haunt. He happened to 
be in, and I was summoned to meet him at the 
table in the dining parlor. 

I need not particularize the proceedings of 
that evening. Let it suffice that I ate, and 
drank, and gambled! I drank to drown my 
feelings of sorrow, and then I drank to drown 
remorse. I threw myself into all the excitement 
of the place like one beside himself. 

I do not name my extreme sense of loneliness 
as an excuse for such excesses, and at such a 
time, but only as the cause or occasion of them.’ 

When I came to myself the next day, and 
recalled the scenes of the day past, I suffered all 
the horrors of the lost. And as I look back 
upon myself, then only eighteen years of age, 
and already so steeped in the vice of drunken- 
ness. it is with unutterable pangs of remorse. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


119 


Surely this was no way to mitigate grief. 
Had I not been taught the comforting truths of 
the gospel ? Had I not learned that only from 
a Divine Source and through prayer can that 
sympathy be obtained which the soul in its 
emergencies so greatly needs? Ah, yes! I 
had learned it; but it was only a matter of 
the intellect. I did not believe it, and con- 
sequently did not feel it nor apply for it. I 
have since learned, young gentlemen, that 
there is nothing like religion upon which to 
lean for support,, or to which to trust for 
guidance. 

Mr. Olcott had called on his way down to his 
office that morning, hut Pierre mercifully ex- 
cused me from seeing him by saying that I was 
ill. Mr. Olcott promised to call on his way 
home that evening. 

In the meantime, Pierre gave me some coun- 
sel. He said he “S’posed it was none o’ his 
business, but he had a weighty load on his 
mind, which he must git off. How, Mister 
Henry, you know I’se been with your father 
nigh on to twenty year. I loved him. Mister 
Henry, jist as much as you. He bought me 


120 


THE WKECKMASTER. 


and Riah in Cuba, and he treated us like as his 
own folks. When Eiah died, he buried her jist 
as nice as if she was white folks. Kow, Mister 
Henry, he is gone, and what is to become of 
you ? I tell you— I tell you— if you do n’t stop 
dat ’are rum, you ’ll go to de bad one/asi. ” And 
he burst into tears and left the room. 

It was, no doubt, a great effort for him to talk 
to me in this manner. He expected that I 
would be offended ; but at the time I weighed 
his words, and resolved to regard his warning. 
How often since then, when I have seen young 
men tampering with drink, have his words come 
back to me: ‘‘I tell you — I tell you — if you 
do n’t stop dat ’are rum, you ’ll go to de bad one 
/asi.” 

Mr. Olcott called and invited me to tea at his 
house. I hesitated at first, not wishing to carry 
my gloom into his cheerful family circle. After 
much persuasion, however, I consented. It 
was for a twofold object that he had invited me ; 
one to assuage my sorrow, and the other to talk 
over plans for the future. 

I had not arrived at any conclusion what to 
do. I expected my bachelor uncle, who had 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


121 


aided in my last year’s education, to come and 
counsel with me, which he did a day or two 
afterward. 

Mr. Olcott, however, proposed that I should 
break up our home and live at his house, he 
agreeing to take Pierre and little Hernando into 
his service. I agreed to this conditionally that 
my uncle did not present something better — 
that is, something which would not make me a 
sort of dependent upon his family; and also 
that, if circumstances should ever warrant it, 
little Hernando should be my own servant. To 
this he consented, at the same time saying that 
his offer of a home was no charity, but would be 
a favor to them, inasmuch as they desired my 
society. 

Of course I felt flattered and pleased by this 
proposition. My uncle approved it, and only 
insisted that I should make full compensation 
for board. This was a matter too delicate to 
broach, but he said he would do it ; and he did, 
and constituted himself paymaster. . 

I now was my own master. My property 
was sufficient to keep me in comfort. I was 
under no obligation and no restraint. A sense 


122 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


of respectability, however, prompted me to seek 
some business. I applied to my father’s old 
firm. I told them that I desired something to 
do, but did not care so much for the salary as 
for a little more leisure than is usually allowed 
to clerks. ' They took me into their employ, and 
placed me at my father’s desk, and allowed me 
the same privilege of hours that he had. At 
two o’clock each day my work was done. 

I bought a horse and wagon, and for a time 
followed my father’s old habit of taking a drive 
every afternoon. But I improved upon his 
practice by stopping at the hotels on the route. 
In this way I made many acquaintances, gene- 
rally a free and easy sort of men, who never 
counted the dollars they expended, and who 
were “hail fellows well met” with every one. 

This talhed so well with my disposition that I 
liked nothing so well as a drive to Snedicor’s, a 
round of drinks, a few jolly stories, and a good 
Havana cigar.' 

All this seemed innocent enough. Ko one 
reproached me for it. At home every thing was 
pleasant. And so a year or more glided on. 

It must not be supposed that I lived in the 


THE WRECKMASTER. 12;j 

same house with Helen all this time to no pur- 
pose. Our fondness for each other increased. 
It must have been observed by her parents, but 
they interposed no check. We already had a 
tacit understanding with each other. Things 
were to continue as they were until I should 
attain to my majority, and then I was formally 
to ask her hand of her parents. 

In this way another year and a half sped 
^ along, interrupted by a single adventure, which 
came near dashing all my hopes. * 

I could not get rid of the fact that I was not 
really an orphan, but that I had a mother still 
living somewhere. It preyed upon my mind. 
It worried me. I thought that she might have 
repented of her rash act, and that the maternal 
instinct might have regained the ascendancy. 

With these thoughts, I determined, if possi- 
ble, to find her and see her. I looked over the 

directories for the name of Mr. , the villain 

who had led her astray, and could only ascertain 
that he had not lived in the city for about five 
years — that was about the time of the elopement. 
I inferred that he had left the city as a place of 
residence, or had changed his name, or else had 


124 


THE AVllECKMASTER. 


refused to have it in the directory. I assumed 
that he was still in the city, and began my 
search accordingly. 

By inquiry of old merchants, I ascertained 
that the house with which he was associated 
was still engaged in trade, but that he had with- 
drawn with a competency many years since. 

Immediately after finishing my work for the 
day, I went to the office of Hartwick, Yan Wyck 
& Co., shipping merchants in South street. As 
I came up to the railing, one of the clerks turned 
about and said : 

“By Jove! there’s Singleton;” and came 
forward and shook me heartily by the hand. I 
did not recognize him at first, his beard and 
long hair had so changed his appearance. 

“Don’t you know me?” he said. “Don’t 
you remember the smoking bout and the Am- 
phictyonic Council?” 

I instantly withdrew my hand, and informed 
him that that transaction had for ever closed all 
avenues of intimacy or acquaintanceship be- 
tween us. 

A gentleman was sitting by the window read- 
ing a newspaper. I told him that I was in 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


125 


search of a Mr. , a former member of this 

firm. The man turned very pale, and then in 
an undertone told me that Mr. had re- 

moved with his family to Havre, France, and 
. that any communication I might address to him 
there would reach him. 

I touched my hat and withdrew. I had 
reached the corner of the street when I felt a 
gentle touch upon my shoulder, and turning 
about, met the eye of my former college acquaint- 
ance whom I had just “snubbed” in the ofiice. 

“See here, Singleton,” said he, “you treated 
me very cavalierly just now, and in the presence 
of others, too. I’m a junior partner in that 
house, and am not disposed to let the matter 
pass over so easily. And I have run after you 
to have matters set right.” 

I said that it remained with him entirely. 
The offence in college was of so gross a charac- 
ter that he could not expect to be forgiven so 
readily. 

“O pshaw!” he rejoined. “ISTow, Singleton, 
you know they are only college tricks, and have 
the sanction of long usage. It does not follow 
that there need be any personal feeling existing 


126 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 


between the actors in any such transaction. If 
it will be any comfort to you, let me tell you 
that when I was a Freshman I was treated by 
the same Council much worse than you were, 
for I was actually tarred and feathered, a pro- 
cess which was called ‘the sacred unction.’ 
Now I assure you that I have nothing but the 
kindest feelings' toward you.” 

IVith this he extended his hand. I could not 
find it in my heart to refuse him. “Let us be 
friends,” he said. “Agreed,” I replied; and 
we two walked arm in arm toward Broad- 
way. 

After we had gone a short distance. Brown 
(for this was his name) said : “After all. Single- 
ton, was it not the allusion I made to your 
mother’s elopement that chiefly offended you 
while we were in college ?” 

■ “No,” I replied, “since I never heard you 
make such an allusion.” 

“Well, I thought you had. I might as well 
confess, then, that it was I who told the matter 
to the fellows there, and when the Sophomore 
chided you about it, it was done at my instiga- 
tion, on purpose that you might assail him, and 


THE WRECKMASTER* 127 

that so we might have a fit subject for trial 
before the Amphictyonic Council.” 

This angered me considerably, but at the 
same time it explained the course of the ofien- 
sive Sophomore, who, as I have said, when he 
was struck did not return the blow. 

Brown confessed that this was small business 
on his part, but that it was prompted by no 
malice, but only from a spirit of fun — to have a 
trial. 

This explanation also disarmed me as against 
the Sophomore, for whom I had vowed a sum- 
mary chastisement the first time we met, and 
raised Brown in my estimation considerably, 
inasmuch as he took the whole blame to himself. 

A suspicion shot across my mind that he 
might know something more about the affair. 
So I asked him how he knew of the matter at 
the time of its occurrence. / 

“Ha! ha! my boy,” he replied, “now you 
are coming to it. Certainly I knew all about it, 
and know how matters stand to-day.” 

You may imagine my feelings. I trembled 
all over. My mother! O, it thrilled me! It 
may be she loves me yet ! 


128 


THE WRECKMASTEB. 


CHAPTEE THE TENTH. 

XmVBILS A MTSTERT AND SEVERAL OTHER THINGS. 

EASPINGr Brown tightly by the 
arm, I said : 

“Now tell me all about it. Is 
my mother living ? Where is she ? 
Can I see her ? Have you seen her ? Does she 

live with Mr. ? Is she married to him?” 

and I do not know how many more questions, 
all in a breath. 

“Be quiet, Singleton,” he said, “and I will 
tell you all. But I do it at my peril. I ’m afraid 
I ’m being watched at this very moment. And 
should it be known that I had given you the 
information I am now about to give, it would 
ruin my prospects for life. But I can ’t help it. 
It has preyed upon my mind for a long time, 
and I am determined to relieve myself. Let us 



THE WRECKMASTER. 129 

go somewhere where we can he entirely by our- 
selves.” 

With that he led me to the Merchant’s Hotel, 
and in the corner of the little reading-room we 
sat down, and at much greater length than I 
shall give it, he told the story of this sad por- 
tion of my life. 

“Mr. is my mother’s brother. He lost 

his wife by death in giving birth to a child — 
a daughter, who is now living in this city, and 
who herself has a son, a boy about four years of 
age. His life has been of an exceedingly quiet 
character. But I am convinced that he is a sly 
rascal. He was a member, and among the most 
active members of Dr. Fraley’s church, ^^o one 
gave the responses in the prayers in a louder 
tone of voice than did he. Ho one was more 
active in the management of the financial affairs. 
He was for a long time the steward. He was 
the Judas that carried the bag. An investiga- 
tion of his accounts revealed the fact that there 
was a deficiency to a large amount. To prevent 
scandal, he was quietly deposed from office and 
excommunicated. This gives you one phase of 
his character. 

9 


130 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


“I have the means of knowing that his fre- 
quent visits to your house were under the guise 
of religion, in order to extend sympathy to one 
whom he said ‘was greatly persecuted.’ He 
admitted that her sufferings were rather of a 
passive than an active character, but that she 
was lonely, she had no one to talk to, she had 
no one to cherish and indulge her ; her nature 
craved sympathy, hut her husband was cold and 
formal, giving her every thing she could wish 
except society, and that she needed.” 

I felt that all this was true, and it had the 
effect to make me more anxious than ever to see 
my mother. Brown continued : 

“At the time of the elopement your mother 
boarded in a retired place in Westchester coun- 
ty, until your father sued for a divorce, which 
she permitted to be granted without opposition. 
Then the parties married. I verily believe that 
the sin was only in the desertion and the subse- 
quent marriage ; for from what I have seen of 
your mother, her principles appear to be estab- 
lished, and she has a perfect horror of a vicious 
life.” 

Nothing that I had heard during all the time 


THE WRECKMASTER. 131 ' 

of the separation caused me so much relief as 
this information. I seized Brown in my arms 
and embraced him, called him my dearest friend, 
and wept for very joy. He continued : 

“ They made a trip to Havre, where our house 
has a branch establishment, and she did not 
learn of your father’s misfortune and death until 
her return. I happened to be present when she 
heard the news. It was a heart-rending scene. 
She paced the floor and screamed hysterically. 
She tore her hair, and for a time I feared she 
would lose her mind. 

‘‘A physician was called, who, by adminis- 
tering anodynes, composed her to sleep ; but the 
servant told me that every time she aroused she 
would cry: ‘My husband! give me back my 
husband !’ And when, the next morning, she 

had recovered herself, she said to Mr. , ‘ I 

have now but one purpose in life ; it is to live 
for my son. ’ 

“Then the brutality of my uncle exhibited 
itself more than ever. For you must remember 
that he knew of your father’s failure in business, 
and had a hand in bringing it about ; and he 
knew also of his death while they were in Havre, 


132 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


but he took good care not to let her know it. 
But now that he had discovered that his wife 
still cherished affection for you, he determined 
either that this should be crushed or that you 
should die. He did not say so, but his conduct 
since then, which was only about four weeks 
ago, has clearly proved it to my mind. And 
this explains this voluntary statement at this 
time, at the risk, as I said, of having all my 
worldly prospects blighted. For he is the most 
powerful member of our firm, although but a 
silent partner. And I tell you this to put you 
upon your guard. 

“Your mother has been a prisoner at the 
house where she is boarding. There are no 
other boarders. The woman that keeps the 
house is in the secret, as is also the maid that 
attends her, and the man that waits upon the 
door. They are all bribed on no- account to 

permit her to go out unless under Mr. ’s 

special escort, and to permit no one to see her 
under any plea whatever. This diabolical spirit 
in the man is rendering her life miserable. She 
is a beautiful woman, and although not old, her 
hair is rapidly turning white. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


133 ’ 


“I have seen the man-servant, and he has 
told me that she has several times given him 
money to search you out. He has tried, hut, 
so far, failed. So when I saw you come into 
the office this morning, I felt that it was a per- 
fect God-send ; and my only hope of not being 
suspected of communicating with you is in the 
fact that my uncle thinks me under every obli- 
gation to him. And I do not know, after all, 
but that your brusque treatment of me in his 
presence, may also have the effect to disarm 
suspicion. 

“I have now, in a few words, told you all.. 
In regard to the property which he was instru- 
mental in robbing from your father, I would 
advise you to take no notice. You could not. 
recover, and a failure* would be worse than to 
have made no effort. But in regard to your 
mother, something ought to be done. I do not 
know what to advise. I think I can get a com- 
munication from you to her, and from her to you 
again, through the doorkeeper. But it will be 
a risk. Yet, Singleton, you may command me 
as you please to restore your mother to you. I 
will risk every thing to effect it.” 


134 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


This proffer of self-sacrifice I could hardly 
understand, and told him so. 

He replied that his soul had been consuming 
with remorse the last month that he should 
know of these schemes and I should not, and 
that this poor woman should be deprived of the 
comfort of seeing the only object of her love. 
“Tor you must know that after your mother 
discovered the duplicity of her new husband, 
she despised him, and this has made him hate 
her with tenfold fury. 

“ This is all I have to say to you. Now take 
my arm, and we will take a walk.” 

We strolled up to Chatham street, then 
through the Bowery, and across some open lots 
near to the residence of Colonel Butgers. 

“There,” he said, “the middle one of that 
block of 'three houses is your mother’s prison.” 

I felt all my early love revive. I wanted to 
run and throw myself into her arms. I wanted 
to strike a blow and set her free from that hor- 
rible man. 

But Brown held me back. “ It is necessary,” 
he said, “to move with caution. You write a 
note informing her that you know where she is. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


135 


and that it is your desire to see her, and so on — 
you know what else to write, and hand it to 
me.” 

We walked back to the hotel, and I wrote my 
mother a letter — a long letter, such as any lov- 
ing son would address to his mother. I made 
no allusion to the past, except to say that I was 
a poor orphan, and she was a childless mother, 
and then appealed to her to come and live with 
me. 

You will see the difficulty surrounding her. 
She was this man’s wife. She hated him. He 
persecuted her. Yet she had no right to leave 
him ; and she could not if she would. 

Brown took my letter, but it was several days 
before we met, as by agreement, at the same 
place in the same hotel. 

In the meantime, what do you think ? I had 
not been home. I had not been to the store, 
but I had become intoxicated, and remained in 
this state for four days ! My clothes were filthy, 
my face unshaven; I was haggard, and my 
money all gone. I had been twice turned out 
of the hotel when I went to meet Brown at the 
time of day appointed. I had literally slept in 


136 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


the streets. I had once gone to the gambling 
place on Barclay street, and the doorkeeper 
refused me admittance. And it was only when 
I could get no more liquor that I began to be 
sobered. When I came to myself, so deep was 
my shame and mortification that I actually went 
to the pier with the purpose of committing 
suicide I And there I was arrested by a Provi- 
dence almost as remarkable as was the poet 
Cowper, who was on his way to destroy his life, 
when something intervened, and he returned 
and penned those immortal lines : 

“ God moves in a mysterious way, 

His wonders to perform ; 

He plants liis footsteps in the sea, 

And rides upon the storm.” 

The river was lashed into fury. A wind had 
arisen and gone forth as precursor to a terrible 
storm that was rising in the north-west. The 
Avaves were dark, overshadowed by the terrific 
black cloud that was rising, and the white caps 
which crested them seemed to be hissing in 
anger. They rose to the level of the pier where 
I was standing, and the spray flew into my face. 
The sea-gulls Avere making circuits far up into 


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i 


The Rescue.— P. 137 


. THE WRECKMASTER. 


137 


the sky, and then down to the very water itself, 
in their efforts to prevent themselves from being, 
driven away by the blast. The vessels were all 
in bare poles, except here and there one which 
was trying, under the smallest amount of can- 
vas, to make some cove on the Jersey shore 
before the storm should reach its climax. The 
wind had already carried my hat into the water. 
I had divested myself of my coat, and had filled 
my pockets with large-sized pebbles, to aid me 
in sinking to the bottom of the river. But I 
looked up the stream and saw the march of that 
terrible cloud, its edge marked by a silver lining 
by the sun, which had not yet been entirely 
darkened. The clouds were marching and 
countermarching, like the serried hosts of an 
army. Bank upon bank were they piled. They 
were of difierent shades, the smoke-like mist 
rushing across the Egyptian blackness of the 
background, while the lightning seemed the 
messenger darting across, up and down, and 
crosswise and zigzag, now of a deep red color, 
now of a bright golden hue, and now of the 
richest purple, with a fringe of all the other 
colors of the rainbow; while occasionally a great 


138 


TUE WRECKMASTER. 


gap would open, and reveal a vast lake of fire 
and brimstone, which was followed by deep and 
prolonged rolling bursts of thunder. 

I was awe-struck at the scene. And there I 
stood, looking, gazing, lost in wonder, with my 
coat on my arm, prepared to leap into the water, 
when I was blinded by a stroke of the lightning, 
followed immediately by a terrific clap of thun- 
der. As soon as I could see, I beheld a vessel, 
anchored about a hundred yards before me, on 
fire, and literally shivered to pieces, and a num- 
ber of men struggling in the water I 

I ran to the nearest boat, jumped in, and 
through the waves, and with the frenzy of a 
madman, pulled for their rescue. I succeeded 
in saving the whole of them. 

Thus was I delivered from suicide, and was 
made the means of saving a number of my fel- 
low men from death. 

The captain asked my name, which I refused 
to give. They all thrust money in my hand, 
which I took for the purpose of purchasing 
clothes. I left them, and as I went I continued 
repeating the lines of Cowper, thinking, at the 
same time, of the circumstances so similar, 


THE WRECKMASTER. 139 

in my own case, to those which had called them 
forth. 

“ Deep in unfathomable mines 
Of never failing skill, 

He treasures up his bright designs, 

And works his sovereign will. 

“Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take 
The clouds ye so much dread 
Are big with mercy, and shall break 
In blessings on your head. 

“Judge not the Lord by feeble sense. 

But trust him for his grace ; 

Behind a frowning providence 
He hides a smiling face.” 

I was deeply impressed by the circumstances 
of my deliverance ; and these words, in connec- 
tion with the arresting providence, made me to 
reflect whether I did not require the assistance 
and guidance of a higher Power and a higher 
Wisdom. My religion, thus far, had been only 
an intellectual reception of the truth ; and now 
I had come the nearest to having it experiment- 
ally, as a part of my consciousness, than ever 
before. O, if I had only followed up the im- 
pressions I If I had then and there besought 


140 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


the God of mercy to unite me to himself by a 
living faith ! 

But, alas 1 it was only the morning dew ; it 
soon vanished, and I became the same as ever. 

I framed the best excuse I could to the family 
of Mr. Olcott, and then taking him aside, told 
him the story of my mother which Brown had 
given to me. All had noticed my haggard ap- 
pearance; and when I told Mr. Olcott that I 
had been waiting and watching night and day, 
he seemed satisfied, and also satisfied his wife 
and Helen too. 

I gave the same excuse to the head of our 
house, and he explained to the others, so that 
I was reinstated both in the family and the office 
without difficulty. 

Brown had succeeded in getting my letter to 
my mother, and also a reply from her, and had 
been every day, as he promised, to the hotel to 
meet me, but I was not there. He had called at 
the office, but they could give him no informa- 
tion of my whereabouts. He had also called at 
Mr. Olcott’s with a like result. At length we 
met, and so began a new series of incidents. 

- You will observe that although I drank every 


TUE WRECKM ASTER. lli 

day on the road or in the club-house, that this 
did not affect me. But as soon as any unusual 
excitement seized me, then my recourse was 
drink, until the senses were entirely benumbed. 
I had not yet awoke to the reality that I was so 
thoroughly a slave to the passion. 


142 


THE WRECKMASTER, 


CHAPTEE THE ELEVENTH. 

PORTRAYS THB WRKCKMASTER’S ATTEMPT AT THE RESCUE 
OF HIS MOTHER. 

mother’s letter, which Brown suc- 
ceeded in bringing to me, aroused 
strong and mingled emotions with- 
in my breast. There was love, and 
grief, and the intensest indignation. My tears 
were the expression of a long pent-up affection, 
while from my eye, I doubt not, there also dart- 
ed forth a demon of revenge. To know a 
mother’s love, to avenge outraged honor, to 
rescue her from the clutches of a villain worse 
than a murderer, all this, at one and the same 
time, racked me until my frame quivered with 
the excitement, and my face became pale and 
haggard. 



THE WRECKMASTER. 


143 


I remembered that there had been days of 
chivalry, when men buckled on their armor and 
rode forth, exposing themselves to all kinds of 
danger and hardship, to right some terrible 
wrong, to protect virtue, and to mete out to 
vice a summary and terrible punishment. 

But what was this compared with my posi- 
tion? Here was a great reality. Here was my 
mother in perpetual bondage, a slave in the 
most abject condition, a wife by law, but yet an 
unwilling prisoner — the object of my dearest 
natural affection almost within sight from my 
windows, and yet we were not permitted the 
little boon of even seeing each other. 

My determination was made. I told Brown 
of it. He said that at this stage he must with- 
draw. At the same time he pressed my hand 
and bade me “God speed.” I wrote a note in 
pencil, which Brown promised to get into my 
mother’s possession, and we parted. 

I had already kept Pierre informed of all that 
had transpired. I now told him my purpose, 
and together we adopted our plan for the rescue 
of my mother. 

According to my directions in the note to her, 


144 


THE WRECKMASTEH. 


she was to hold herself in readiness to leave her 
prison on the evening of Thursday. It was 

now Monday. Mr. was to be decoyed 

away from his home by a letter, which Brown 
had suggested, and which promised to furnish 
important intelligence respecting some business 
project upon which he had entered: 

Pierre and Hernando, who was then about 
eleven years of age, were to accompany me in a 
close carriage to a certain locality near to the 
scene of the proposed rescue. 

The region about where the three houses 
stood was, for the most part, open lots. Streets 
were cut through, but they were not payed, and 
the grading had left in some places upright 
bluffs, and in others deep cavities which, during 
the winter season, were filled with water. 

There was one of these cavities immediately 
in the rear of the house in which my mother 
was confined. The water was about four feet 
deep. Prom the bottom of this a stone wall 
had been built up to the level of the yard con- 
nected with her house, and upon this wall there 
was a board fence about twelve feet high, all 
along the top of which were sharp iron spikes. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


145 


It was over this fence and through this gully, 
filled with water, that I must bring my mother, 
if I should succeed in rescuing her. 

It was a dark night. We drove the carriage 
behind one of the bluffs, not far distant. Her- 
nando was left to care for the horses. I had 
secured a room nearly opposite to Mr. Olcott’s, 
where I proposed to take my mother. 

Pierre accompanied me. He carried a ladder, - 
but it was found to be much too short. We, 
however, concluded it was long enough to place 
upon a barrel and reach to the edge of the 
piazza. And now we were to get into the yard. 
Pierre ran away down home, and retmmed with 
a large auger and a saw. I then mounted his 
shoulders, and bored a hole large enough to in- 
sert the point of the saw. I then began work. 

I intended to work slowly and quietly, but the 
excitement was too much, and I ripped away as 
hard as I could. 

Presently I saw the glimmering of a light 
through the opening. I stopped and fixed my 
eye at the auger hole and looked through. And 
there were a black man and an elderly looking 
woman, the latter carrying a candle in her hand. 

10 


146 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


I overheard her saying: “I’m sure I heard 
something in the yard, and I can ’t rest until I 
find out what it is.” 

So they peered all around, looking up at the 
windows and scanning the fence. Then the 
man took a barrel which seemed to be partially 
filled with garbage, and standing on the edge, 
looked over the fence. He reported, however, 
that he saw nothing, and “guessed it must have 
been the rats.” 

The old lady, however, was not satisfied. 
She insisted that they should walk all around 
the yard. They came within two feet of me. 
Fortunately the shrubbery was a little thicker 
there than elsewhere, so we were not discovered. 

She said, as she passed, that Mrs. must 

be better, she guessed, as she was up now, and 
she could see her shadow on the curtain as she 
moved about. “Strange!” she said; “why, 
only a little while ago she was so faint that 
Mattie had to come down stairs and borrow my 
lavender bottle. How she is up and dressed. 
It is strange. I guess I shall have to go up and 
see about it.” 

They went into the house. My attention was 


THE WrwECKMASTER. 


147 


directed to the window by her remarks, and I 
concluded that her fainting had been a ruse to 
mislead the family, and that she was now mak- 
ing arrangements to come away with me. 

I resumed the sawing, after covering the saw 
well with tallow, which Pierre had been thought- 
ful enough to bring along. Soon I had sawed a 
sufficient distance across, and we succeeded in 
making a hole large enough to admit the body. 
Pierre then cut the shrubbery away with his 
jack-knife, and we both entered the yard, drag- 
ging the ladder after us. 

I looked at my watch, and found that we 
were in good time. We cautiously placed the 
ladder upon the inverted barrel, and Pierre' 
ascended. He crossed the piazza and gave a 
gentle tap at the window, then raised it cau- 
tiously, and my mother, having previously 
blown out her light, came out. Kot a word 
was spoken. I stood holding the ladder firmly 
in its place. My mother came down first. I 
felt her dress. I caught her in my arms. I 
carried her across the yard. Yet not a word 
was spoken. This pregious burden, and yet I 
could not say “Mother!” I first passed through 


148 


THE WKECKMASTER. 


the hole in the fence, and again I received her 
into my arms. She pressed my cheek to hers 
and kissed me, and said, “My son I my dear 
boy 1” 

I had carried her through the water and was 
hastening with her to the carriage, when sud- 
denly she gave an unearthly shriek. . I saw a 
glare of light, and that was all I 

******* 

It was a week after this when I recovered my 
consciousness, and found myself in my own bed 
at Mr. Olcott’s, and the sweet, pretty face of 
Helen leaning over me. She kissed me, and 
said, “Thank God, he will live I’’ 

Of course I made immediate inquiries as to 
my condition, how I came there, and when. 

And when my memory was turned back, and 
the circumstances began to arrange themselves 
systematically in my mind, I asked about my 
mother. 

They told me that I should know all about it 
the next day, but that I was at present too 
weak. 

Under the inducnce of some anodyne I then 


s 


THE WRECKMASTER. 149 

sank into a pleasant slumber, and when 1 awoke 
it was the next day. 

Pierre then informed me that just as my 
mother screamed, he was a little in advance of 
me, having started to have the carriage door 
ready opened, that we might hasten our de- 
parture ; that he passed two men without seeing 
them, but that as soon as he heard the shriek 
he turned ; but it was too late. I was prostrate 
upon the ground by a blow of a club, and my 
mother was held by a man whom he recognized 
by his voice as Mr. . 

One of the men seized him, but he quickly 
threw him off; the other came to his assistance, 
and said if he would carry away the “body,” 
(they supposed me dead,) that nothing should 
be said. Pierre thought it was useless to show 
any more resistance, so with their aid the car- 
riage was brought, and I was placed in it and 
driven to my home. 

A physician was called, who said that al- 
though the wound was serious, it was not neces- 
sarily dangerous; that by careful nursing I 
might be about again in a month. 

- So ended my attempt to rescue my mother. 


V 


150 THE WRECKMASTER. 

But there was a sequel. I sent for Brown to 

come and see me. He came, and said that it 

m 

it was fortunate that I had not sent for him 
sooner, as he could not have come. He told me 
that the black man had proved a traitor. He 
had not said through whom, but had informed 

Mr. that he had seen Mrs. draw a 

note up to the second story window by a cord, 
and that he guessed there must be something 
going on. He had invented this lie to shield 
himself. And when, on the evening of the 

rescue, Mr. was called down town by the 

decoy note, the negro had said to him, “Better 
keep a sharp lookout round the house to-night.” 
He would not say any more. But this was 

enough to di'aw suspicion. So Mr. had 

procured the aid of two men (porters in the 
store), and they arrived just in time to accom- 
plish their purpose and frustrate mine. If I 
had been five minutes sooner, I would have 
succeeded. 

Brown then told me how he had been sus- 
pected of aiding me, and his uncle had deter- 
mined to cast him out from the firm ; but the 
expostulations of the other members of the firm 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 151 

had saved him. This would not have been the 

case had not Mr. determined to leave the 

country. Only the day before he had sailed 
with his wife for Havre, with the intention of 
making that his permanent home. 

Brown had brought me a little note, which 
my mother had handed him out of the carriage 
window, asking him to bring it to me if I was 
living. She said she knew him to have been in 
college with me, 3,nd she presumed upon that 
to ask this little favor. 

The note I took, and read as follows : 

“ My Dear Boy ; 

“ I know not 'whether I am addressing the 
living or the dead. O God ! what I have suf- 
fered! what I do suffer! If you ever can, do 
yet try to set me free. I go to-day to Havre — 
No. 242 Rue de Rivoli. 

Mother.” 

Then this was the last of my mother. At 
least so I thought at the time. 

I began to recover rapidly. It was not long 
before I was able to ride out, and with little 
Hernando, to take my favorite drive to Snedi- 
cor’s, on Long Island. 


152 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


I again met my boon companions, again re- 
sumed my habit of social drinking. I discov- 
ered, however, that I wanted it more than 
formerly, and took larger quantities. Owing 
to this and to the weakened state of my consti- 
tution, perhaps, I discovered that my hand 
trembled when I wrote, and that I did not pos- 
sess my wonted composure in conversation. I 
thought that something must be done. I there- 
fore determined that I would moderate my 
drinking practice. But who that has tried it 
but knows that this is impracticable, and espe- 
cially when in the company of those who are 
continually drinking and urging to drink ? 

•Another motive, however, now influenced 
me. I had arrived at my majority, and accord- 
ing to agreement, I was now to ask Mr. and 
Mrs. Olcott for a long-coveted treasure, the 
hand of their daughter. 

Helen gave her consent readily, as indeed we 
had belonged to each other from childhood. 
And one evening I took her by the hand and 
led her to the room where her father and mother 
were seated. I did not use any studied phrase, 
but simply told them that Helen had consented 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 153 

to be my wife, and as in duty bound, we had 
now come to ask their consent. 

There was no sentimentality about it. But 
there was a deep love between us. Her parents 
knew it, and* for their daughter’s happiness they 
could not say Ho. 

Mrs. Olcott drew her daughter to her and 
said she knew it must come ; that it had come 
too soon, however, but that Helen and I had 
her full consent, with her blessing. 

The father, however, said nothing, but took 
a card from his pocket and wrote, “I would likf 
to see you alone,” and handed it to me. 

I looked to see why he had written and not 
spoken so simple a request, and discovered that 
he was unable to speak. His eyes were filled 
with tears, his lips were tightly pressed together, 
and his chin quivered. 

He led the way back to the front parlor, leav- 
ing Helen and her mother behind. 

He took hold of my hand affectionately, and 
held it in his own all the time he talked to me. 
He said : 

“Henry, the day has come which I hoped to 
have set down as one of the happiest of my life. 


154 


THE WRECKMASTER. ’ 


In one view it is so, but in another it is very, ' 
very dark. I loved you from the very first time 
I knew you. I respected your father more than 
any other of all my acquaintance. And your 
mother’s great wrong was an error father than 
a crime ; for when I knew her as a girl, a more 
high-minded, strong-principled person never 
lived. I believe she is still the same, but there 
was a blank in her heart, and that villain knew 
it, and so led her from her home. 

“You have education, family, and, prospect- 
ively, a large fortune; for I can inform you 
of what you do not know — that I have to-day 
attested the will of your uncle, in which he 
leaves you the whole of his property, upon the 
condition that you marry my daughter. And I 
am sorry to say that the symptoms of his disease 
indicate that he cannot live many days. 

“Besides, my daughter loves you, and has 
never known what it was to love any one else. 
And I believe you love her from a full, true, 
and manly heart. How, if this marriage does 
not take place, I blight my only child’s happi- 
ness for ever. I becloud the sunshine of my 
happy home. I deprive her of a high-toned, 


THE WRECKMASTER. 155 

honorable gentleman, a gentleman of family and 
of very large fortune, as her husband. 

“Now, you see the sacrifice her parents make 
and that she makes, if I do not assent to this 
proposed union. Henry, I will make all 

this sacrifice, and see my daughter laid beneath 
the sod, before she shall marry a drunkard !’>'> 

I sprang from my seat. I looked him straight 
in the eye. I said, so fiercely that Helen and 
her mother came rushing into the room : 

^^But, sir, do you call me a drunkardP"* 

-It was a painful scene. My betrothed and her 
mother had both heard my words, and from 
these had gathered Mr. Olcott’s opposition, and 
the reason for it, to our marriage. The mother 
plead and the daughter swooned. When a suf- 
ficient degree of composure had been secured, 
Mr. Olcott again took my hand, and with the 
tears streaming down his cheeks, said : 

“My son, prove to me for six months that 
you can abstain entirely from intoxicating 
drink, and none will be more happy than I to 
bless your union with my daughter.” 

I took hold of the Bible with my left hand, 
and lifted my right hand to heaven and swore 


156 


THE WUECKMASTER. 


that ftom that moment not a drop of intoxicat- 
ing drink should ever pass my lips, except it 
should be prescribed by the physician. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


157 


CHAPTEK THE TWELETH. 

INTRODtrCBS CLOUD, DARKNESS, AND SUNSHINE. 

DID not know what the resolution 
and the oath to renounce drink 
was to lead to. iN'o one does until 
he makes the effort. It is very diffi- 
cult to break any well-established habit. Who 
has not tried it in the way of sleep? You now 
retire at midnight and arise at eight o’clock in 
the morning. This has been your practice for 
years. You are convinced that it will be better 
for your health, for your business, or your study, 
if you retire at ten and rise at six. You make 
the trial. Being in bed two hours before your 
accustomed time, you can not sleep. You toss 
about restlessly. You are tempted to rise and 



158 .THE WRECKM ASTER. 

take a book until you shall become drowsy. But 
there is your resolution. So you try to fight it 
out. After a time you fall asleep, the time, 
however, deferred beyond your usual hour by 
the nervousness excited by trying to sleep 
before. Consequently, when the bell rings at 
six in the morning, you are more disposed to 
sleep than ever. You roll over and take another 
hour; but you resolve that the next day you 
will begin in earnest. Of how many do I give 
the experience in this I 

But this is a small matter. Yet how difficult 
to break even this habit ! How many have tried 
to break off from the use of tobacco I And what 
a struggle it has cost them ! And yet the use 
of tobacco is an unnatural habit. The taste for 
it has to be cultivated, and that, too, by painful, 
sickening effort. 

There is no habit so strong, and consequently 
so difficult to break, as the habit of drink. It is 
one that is easily formed. The wines which are 
taken at first are very pleasant to the taste. 
They produce a thrilling of the nerves which, as 
a new sensation, is exceedingly delightful. By 
slow«flegrees, however, a stronger stimulus is 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


159 


required, and the man passes from fermented to 
spirituous or distilled liquors. These stupify, 
while at the same time they excite. They thro\N 
one into a delicious oblivion. The man, for the 
time, forgets his troubles. His anxiety gives 
place to mirthfulness. He is not the same 
man that he was. He is not himself at all. 
The enemy he has admitted into his mouth has 
stolen away his brains. 

How easy, therefore, it is for a man seeking a 
sensual delight to turn to the intoxicating cup ! 
Or, if he is in trouble, how convenient to have 
a bottle near to make him forget it I And when 
he has tested such delights, or so easily found 
such reliefs, how powerful is the temptation to 
the cup upon every occasion I 

But even when there is no such special object 
to be gained, yet the taste has been formed. It 
has become a second nature to the man to drink. 
He feels it to be just as much of a necessity for 
him as is the food he eats or the clothing he 
wears. O, pity the poor drunkard! If you 
have never been a slave to drink, O, pity him 
who has been and who yet is I Yet what misery 
his habit entails upon himself, upon his family, 


IGO 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


and upon the community I He loses his self- 
respect. He neglects his personal appearance. 
He permits his face to go unshaven, his hair 
unkempt, and his clothing to become ragged 
and filthy. He shuns his former respectable 
associates, or else they shun him. If he has 
been a church goer, he breaks off from this 
practice. If he has been taught to read the 
Bible and to pray daily unto God, he now no 
longer does these things. He will fraternize 
upon terms of equality with the outcasts whom, 
in his sober days, he regarded only with com- 
placency and condescension. He will even sleep 
in a horse-stable or a pig-sty.^ It imbrutes a 
man. It makes a beast of him who should ever 
reflect the angel. 

And then how his family sufiers I He forgets 
or neglects them. His love for wife and children 
changes to indifference. He is heedless of their 
, comfort. The house goes to ruin. The children 
can not appear decently, and so are not sent to 
school, to church, or to Sunday-school. They 
become the byeword and the scorn of other chil- 
dren. They are obliged to resort to all sorts of 
make-shifts to procure bread. What wonder 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


163 


that they grow up ignorant and vicious ! What 
wonder that they become thieves or murderers! 
0"the drunkard’s vice is not confined, in its 
terrible efiects, to himself; it is entailed upon 
his children and children’s children. It turns 
the once happy home into a place of discord. 
Where there was plenty is introduced gaunt 
poverty. Where there was virtue is now vice. 
Wiere there was a God, a Bible, and a family 
altar, there are now quarrelings and a struggle 
for bread. O, how often I have seen this ! 

It is rum which makes the heaviest tax upon 
the community, for it builds the almshouses, it 
fills the jails, it peoples the hospitals and the 
lunatic asylums. And all this makes a tremen- 
dous tax upon the honest, sober, hard-working 
people, for their support. And if any wicked 
scheme is concocted in the halls of legislation, 
in some way or other rum is connected with it. 
It is the greatest power and the greatest curse 
of the country. 

“I embodied the above in my journal, young 
gentlemen, more than twenty years ago,” said 
the Wreckmaster, “and I find it is true yet, 
and becoming worse and worse.” 

11 


162 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


He then resumed the thread of his narrative 
by repeating the words : “I did not know what 
the resolution and the oath to renounce drink 
was to lead to.” 

It was made under peculiar and very pressing 
circumstances. The alternatiye was presented 
to me to break off this habit or to lose my dear 
little Helen. I determined to be true. I could 
not endure the thought of passing through life 
alone without her. And suppose, then, she 
should become the wife of another ! O, the very 
idea maddened my brain, and prepared me for 
any thing. 

One day passed, and another, and another. 
I felt good. I congratulated myself that the 
habit had not been so strong, after all. 1 
thought it was easy enough for me to give up 
drink. 

On the evening of the fourth day, I was re- 
turning home after taking dinner with a friend, 
(and who, too, I should say, had tempted me 
with his liquors, but I had resisted and con- 
quered,) when I observed a little black dog fol- 
lowing me. He came up to my side wagging 
his tail ; then he ran forward, and then again 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


103 


fell into the rear, as clogs usually do when they 
accompany their masters. I chirped at him and 
whistled. He approached almost near enough 
for me to pat him on the head, and then gal- 
loped off again. This he did repeatedly. 

I thought nothing of it, only that a dog had 
lost his master, and had adopted me. This was 
a frequent occurrence with me, as I was always 
very fond of dogs, and had a kind word for 
almost every one I met. I supposed this dog 
had recognized me, and remembered some past 
kindness ; and with this thought I tried to dis- 
miss him from my mind. But I could not. 
There he was yet. All the way, for more than 
a mile, that dog followed me. He seemed to 
fascinate me. I tried again and again to get 
hold of him, but he evaded every attempt. 

When I arrived at home, he came up the steps 
with me. I drove him off, fearing he would 
come into the house. I entered, and shut the 
door quickly; but behold, there was the little 
black dog before me! I chirped and tried to 
recall him. He turned and wagged his tail, 
and ran up the stairs ahead of me. 

I pursued him with the view of catching him. 


164 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


He stood at the entrance to my bedroom door. 
I took hold of him by the neck. He gave a yelp, 
hut I had nothing in my hand I 

I began to search for him up stairs, down 
stairs, in the parlors, and even in the cellar, 
although the doors of the dilferent rooms were 
shut, and that of the cellar was bolted. 

What could it mean ? The family were all in 
bed, and, I supposed, asleep. 

I went to my room and threw myself upon 
my bed, but I did not catch a wink of sleep. I 
was never before so worried as by this little in- 
nocent circumstance. 

When I heard the servants moving about the 
house, I arose and washed my face, which pre- 
sented a very haggard appearance, and went 
down stairs and inquired if they had seen a 
little black dog in the house, informing them 
that one had followed me the previous evening. 

But none of them had seen him. Pierre said 
that he had opened the front door, and he was 
sure that none had gone out. Hernando and I 
then searched the cellar and the garden, but 
could get no trace of him. And what added to 
the .mystery was that on that evening the 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


165 


streets were very wet and muddy, and yet no 
tracks of the dog were seen either upon the 
stone steps or upon the oil cloth in the hall, 
while the marks of my hoots could be traced 
up the steps and all through the hall to the foot 
of the stairs. 

I returned to my room, wondering what it 
meant. When I came down to breakfast, my 
appearance led them all to inquire if I was ill. 
I replied that I had not slept very well. But 
I could eat nothing. I went down to business, 
but my hand trembled so that I could not write. 
I asked to be excused. The request was readily 
granted. I ordered my horse, and taking Her- 
nando with me, I started out on my usual route 
for Snedicor’s. I stopped and got a cigar, 
although the landlord looked a great deal of 
surprise that I did not ask for liquor. I then 
drove out as far as Jamaica. On my return I 
stopped at Snedicor’s again. By this time the 
gentlemen began to arrive from the city. I 
mingled with them, as usual. They invited me 
to drink, but I steadily, though politely de- 
clined. They inquired the matter. Some 
laughed, and said that “Singleton had become 


4 


166 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


a temperance man.” Others said they guessed 
it would not last long. Others asked if I had 
joined the church, while others said, ‘‘That 
need make no matter, as the parsons and the 
elders all had their liquors.” 

I was a favorite with the company I usually 
met there. So some of them seriously sat down 
at my side, and with great concern wished to 
know what had come over me. They were sin- 
cere. They really believed that some calamity 
had befallen me. And for a man to renounce 
the pleasures of “the flowing howl,” was to 
them a more serious mattelr than to lose the 
dearest of earthly friends. 

I merely replied that I had deliberately deter- 
mined to renounce liquors of all kinds as a 
beverage. I had good and sufficient reasons 
for my course ; and if they were the gentlemen 
I had ever found them to be, they would respect 
my opinions and my feelings, and not invite me 
to join them in their bouts. 

This was a sore cut to them, and it was hard- 
ly less so to me. It severed the social tie which 
bound us. For us not to drink together would 
result soon in not associating together. And 


TUE WRECKMASTER. 


1G7 


SO this coterie of intelligent, well-meaning, 
jovial, genial gentlemen would count one less, 
and that one would be myself. 

I felt that from that moment I was isolated. 
I stood alone. I had severed myself from my 
companions. I had not counted upon this in 
my resolution and solemn oath not to drink. 

When I took my seat by the side of Her- 
nando, they all waved me a sad good-bye, evi- 
dently feeling that I was lost to them. And so 
I felt. I had not enjoyed my ride. 

In the evening I went to the theater. But 
every thing fell flat upon me. The music ap- 
peared discord, the acting mechanical, and the 
laughter of the people mockery. I felt -tremu- 
lous, sad, lonely. Some terrible calamity ap- 
peared hovering over me. 

I walked home. It was about eleven o’clock 
at night. As I came to the spot where I saw 
the little black dog on the previous evening, the 
circumstance came into my mind. I instinct- 
ively turned and looked about me, and, sure 
enough, there he was again! He galloped toward 
me as if delighted to see me, and then acted in 
the same manner as on the night before. 


1GB THE WRECKMASTER. 

I was frightened. I called him, and he came. 
I tried to get hold of him, but could not. I 
became angry and picked up a stone and threw 
it at him. He yelped, and putting his tail 
between his legs, disappeared in a side street. 
I had not gone the distance of a block, however, 
before he returned. I tried to pay no attention 

to him. But I could not resist the fascina- 
tion. 

Again he followed me to the steps. He then 
paused and looked up, as if for permission to 
'enter. I hooted at him, and saw him go up the 
street, then quickly opened the door and passed 
in. How, I thought, I have succeeded. But 
there, right before me, with his head turned 
toward me, and wagging his tail as if in delight, 
stood the little black dog, waiting for me to 
come up to him. 

I ran after him, threw my hat at him, took 
the canes and umbrellas from the rack in the 
hall, and threw them at him. He seemed to 
be hit at times, and gave a short, quick yelp. 

The noise aroused Mr. Olcott, who came out 
in his night-clolhes, asking what was the mat- 
ter. I told him that a dog had followed mo 


) 


THE WRECKMASTER. 169 

into the house, and I could not get him out. 
He came to my assistance with a boot-jack. 

“ Where is he?” he said. 

“Just gone down into the lower hall,” I re- 
plied. 

We both went down stairs. “There he is I” 
I cried. “Look out for him. Don’t let him 
get up stairs.” I threw canes and umbrellas at 
him as fast as I could gather them up. I could 
distinctly hear his yelps. All the while Mr. 
Olcott stood as if struck dumb. 

“Why, Henry,” he said, “Ido not see any 
dog.” 

“Don’t see any dog! There, look! He is 
there, right before you, wagging his tail.” 

But he persisted in his statement that there 
was no dog there. I thought him crazy or 
blind, and I told him so, and, I am afraid, in 
not a very respectful tone either. 

He came down the stairs, and placing his 
hand tenderly on my arm, said : 

“Come, Henry, my boy, you had better go to 
bed.” I was trembling like an aspen leaf. 
“ You are ill,” he added. “I will send Pierre 
for the doctor,’’ 


170 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


He led me to my room. I undressed and laid 
down upon my bed. Turning over toward the 
door, there stood that dog again ! I shrieked. I 
leaped out of the bed and seized the metal spit- 
toon to cast at him, but I could not find him. 

I tried to sleep, but could not. The doctor 
came, and Pierre and Mr. Olcott with him. He 
examined me. I told him of the dog. He 
asked when I had drank the last glass. I told 
him five days befcrre. He knew my habit. 
“Ah!” he said, “That ’s it. The man has got 
the delirium tremens 

This was my case, and the apparition of the 
little dog was the first symptom. O, it was 
dreadful — dreadful in the experience as well as 
in the disgrace. 

The doctor said I could get immediate relief 
by brandy. I looked at Mr. Olcott. I saw he 
was watching my countenance. This was the 
central turning point. Should I yield and lose 
my Helen? A ray of triumph passed over his 
face as I said : 

“Ho, doctor, I have sworn it, and I will die 
before a drop shall pass my lips.” 

And I did die a thousand deaths. O, what 


THE WRECKMASTER. 171 

horrors I endured ! What sights passed before 
my eyes I What sounds lilled my ears I 

I was confined to my room for several weeks. 
At times I was literally confined — held in the 
strong grasp of Pierre, or with my arms tightly 
bound behind me. I threatened every body. 
I cursed my mother, Helen, Mr. Olcott, Pierre. 
I could not be left alone for a minute. I cried 
“Brandy!” “Brandy!” until I became hoarse; 
and because they would not give it to me, I sat 
down on my bed and wept and sobbed like a 
child. I was raving. 

One morning I awoke from a most delightful 
dream. And the real world seemed no less 
delightful. The window was 'raised, and the 
balmy breath of Spring was entering. The 
blue-bird and the robin were chirping in the 
trees of the garden, and Helen was sitting with 
her work-basket at the open window. She had 
not yet observed that I was awake, and so 1 
laid and watched her. O, how beautiful she 
seemed ! Yes, it was worth the sacrifice. 

I spoke. She instantly came to my side and 
imprinted upon my lips one of her sweetest 
kisses. 


172 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


“O, Henry !” she said, ‘‘ it will be right now. 
The crisis is passed. The doctor says there 
need be no fear of a return of the delirium. 
Father says that after this he is willing to trust 
me to you.” 

“But, Helen,” I said, “this is too bad for 
you.” 

“Don’t speak of it,” she said, and again I 
received a pearl into my mouth. 

I slowly began to recover. I resumed my place 
in the office. My uncle had died during my 
illness, and I had become heir to his large for- 
tune. I disliked to be idle, so for the time being 
I still acted as clerk to the old firm. 

I remained faithful to my oath for the six 
months. I had conquered. Cloud, darkness, 
but now sunshine I 

I can not close this chapter more appropriate- 
ly than by quoting a passage from the letters 
of Charles Lamb — “Gentle Elia,” as he is 
sometimes called. Poor Charley knew some- 
thing of the experience I have herein described. 
He says : 

“Could the youth to whom the flavor of his 
first wine is delicious as the opening scenes of 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


173 


life, or the entering upon some newly discovered 
paradise, look into my desolation and be made 
to understand what a dreary thing it is when a 
man shall feel himself going down a precipice with 
open eyes and a passive will — to see his destruction 
and have no power to stop it, and yet to feel it all 
the way emanating from himself; to perceive all 
goodness emptied out of him, and yet not be 
able to forget a time when it was otherwise ; to 
bear about him the piteous spectacle of his own 
self ruin ; could he see my fevered eye, feverish 
with last night’s drinking, and feverishly look- 
ing for this night’s repetition of the folly ; could 
he feel the body of the death out of which I cry 
hourly with feebler and feebler outcry to be 
delivered — it were enough to make him dash 
the sparkling beverage to the earth in all the 
pride of its mantling temptation ; to make him 
clasp his teeth, 

An<i not undo ’em, 

To suflEer wet damnation to run through ’em.” 


174 


THE WRECKMASTEB. 


CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH. 

OPENS A NEW CAREER FOR THE WRECKMA8TER. 

T was a beautiful day in midsummer. 
Mr. Olcott’s family had taken a 
country seat upon the shores of 
Long Island Sound, a few miles 
above the city of New York. It was an old, 
long stone house, surrounded with trees, with a 
lawn sloping down to the water’s edge. 

I remained in the office only a short time after 
my last severe illness. Although the position 
was kept open for me, I hesitated about assum- 
ing it again, for since my uncle’s death I had a 
sufficient fortune. 

I therefore spent the most of my time at this 
place. Being a skilled oarsman, my chief re- 
creation was on the water. I knew the favorite 
localities of the different kinds of fish which 




THE WRECKMASTER. 


175 


filled the bays and creeks, so that I kept the 
table constantly supplied with the choicest of 
the season. 

How delightful the recollection of those days 
now! Many years have flown by, but I yet 
recall, with peculiar emotions, those quiet sum- 
mer evenings, when, with Helen in the stern of 
my boat, which I had carefully cushioned and 
carpeted for her use, I rowed out upon the 
broad waters, and then, casting aside my oars 
and permitting the boat to drift with the tide, 
we talked. We talked of the past ; we talked of 
my poor, imprisoned, persecuted mother; we 
formed good resolutions ; we arranged plans for 
usefulness ; we talked of the future — where our 
home would be — how we would furnish our 
house — who should be our guests, and other 
matters without number. 

At length the day arrived. Old Dr. Living- 
ston had been invited to perform the ceremony. 
Kelatives and friends of Mr. Olcott’s, family 
gathered by the score. I had invited my two 
college friends, Shaw and Brown. These made 
our wedding party. We stood under an im- 
mense elm tree immediately fronting the old 


176 


THE WKECKMASTER. 


mansion. The guests stood around in a group. 
In the background were the servants, among 
them Pierre and Hernando. And there we 
pledged our troth. 

We were pronounced to be husband and wife. 
The friends congratulated us in the usual way, 
and then we repaired to the large dining hall 
for the feast. This ended, there was dancing 
until night, when the guests returned to their 
nomes. 

And so we were married. A sense of respon- 
sibility rested upon me such as I had never felt 
Defore. I had a pure and beautiful girl, an only 
daughter of wealthy and refined parents, one 
educated in the best schools the city afibrded, 
as my wife. How I inwardly resolved to make 
myself worthy of her I How I reiterated my 
determination never to permit the accursed cup 
to touch my lips I What prayers I ofiered unto 
God to aid me in my solemn resolve I 

Having a competency, and loving country 
life, I resolved to purchase a farm. I found one 
to my liking on Long Island not very far from 
this place, and situated near to the race-course. 

I stocked it with cattle of the most approved 


THE WRECKMASTEIl. 


177 


breed and keep a few horses, one of which I 
purchased purposely for his speed. And there 
in lay the seeds of my future fall. 

Few people know the fascination of a fas< 
horse. But of those few, not many escape thf 
dangers into which he will certainly lead them. 
All the rapture which seizes an artist in looking 
at a magnificent landscape, or at a superior 
work of art, will, upon occasion, seize the con- 
noiseur in horse-flesh. With his eye he mea- 
sures his length, carefully notes the proportions 
of one part of the body to another, calculates 
upon his color, the shape of his foot, the bend 
of his leg, the amount of flesh his build will 
allow him to carry to the best advantage, the 
nose, whether Roman or blunt, the ears, whether 
pointed and narrow or broad and long, the 
breadth between the eyes and the ears, the 
curve of the chest, the lifting of the foot, its 
forward carriage, whether too far or too short, 
the swing of his body, the condition of his 
lungs and stomach, the nostrils, whether con- 
tracted or expansive, the roll of the eye, the 
degree of nervousness or stolidity he displays — ■ 
all these points are to the horse fancier what 
12 


178 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


columns, capitals, fluting, proportions, site, and 
surroundings are to a pile of architecture, and 
he becomes carried away in his enthusiasm. 

Whatever may be said about the taste such 
an enthusiast may display, I only state the fact 
that for a large number of people there is this 
fascination about a horse. And when they see 
him upon the road, when all these excellent 
points are brought into exercise, and stretched 
to their utmost tension, while the sagacious 
animal seems all the while conseious of his 
powers, and strives to do his best, they often 
lose themselves in the rapture of their excite- 
ment and admiration. I have seen them caress 
their favorites to an extravagant degree — throw 
their arms around their necks and kiss them, 
and weep like children over the least mishap to 
them. 

Well, on my farm, with but little to do, I 
became such a one. My pet, “Messenger,” 
was a noted racer. I did not eare for the purses 
he won on the course at first. My pride was to 
see him surpass every thing that was entered. 
But by degrees I, too, embraced the practice of 
betting. Of course I stood up for my own. 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 179 

A famous race was to be made. Four blooded 
steeds, two from the English turf, lyere entered. 
My Messenger was one of them. There had 
been a long advertisement previously. Not 
only the professedly sporting papers, but all the 
journals, and even some which were called re- 
ligious, had made frequent reference to the race 
about to come off. It was the topic of conver- 
sation every where. The taverns, the corner 
groceries, the club-rooms, the parlors, and even 
the church steps, had an exciting group talking 
of a horse race. Great placards were posted, 
not only in the vicinity of the course, but hun- 
dreds of miles away. Many gentlemen had 
even made the voyage from England and from 
New Orleans, for the purpose of witnessing it, 
and this, in the day when there were no ocean 
steamers, and the time consumed in sailing was 
measured by weeks rather than by days, as at 
present. 

I had made full preparation for the event. I 
scarcely slept for anxiety. I watched my horse 
as a mother watches her child. Twice a day he 
was walked. Then he Avas exercised over the 
course. My groom slept in the straw of the 


180 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


stable by his side. His driver was sweated to 
reduce his flesh, and himself rubbed and chafed 
to keep him in good condition. If Messenger 
should win, his driver was to receive one thou- 
sand dollars, and the groom one hundred. 
Thus they were both encouraged to do their 
best. 

The eventful day arrived. Before daylight 
every road leading to the course was thronged 
with vehicles of every description ; and* thou- 
sands, too poor to own or hire a conveyance, 
were making their way on foot. 

Tents and booths were arranged all around 
the course, and extended for a mile up and 
down the turnpike, where the venders of re 
freshments and fancy wares drove their trade. 
Hand organs and monkeys, panoramas and 
shows of various kinds were in numbers. 
Thimble-riggers and gamblers, with various 
means, had their places to catch the unwary, 
^^^ot only New York, but all the cities of the 
United States seemed to have emptied theii 
vile characters upon the Union Eace Course. 

There were rows of benches arranged at 
points around the course, each one raised above 


THE WRECKMASTER. 181 

the other like those at present within a circus 
tent. There were places reserved for ladies, 
many hundreds of whom were present. Other 
prominent positions were kept for public offi- 
cials, such as Governors of States, Mayors, and 
Congressmen. A circular stand was placed at 
a distance from the places assigned to the spec- 
tators, for the use of the judges. A flag ex- 
tended from this over the course, and indicated 
the place of departure and return for the racers. 

I am thus particular in describing the races 
in those times, because, in many respects, they 
differed from the present. Thei'e was less im- 
morality, but yet there was too much of it, 
Tlie course was frequented by the respectable 
portion of the community; now it is not so. 
Customs have changed in this respect, just as 
in drinking. Then, to be a total abstainer, was 
so singular that the person was set down as a 
fanatic. Every body drank. The sideboards 
always contained a variety of drinks. And the 
man so poor or so negligent as not to offer his 
visitor a glass of rum, was considered exceed- 
ingly mean. Happily this is no longer the case. 

On the morning of the day of the race my 


182 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


excitement was intense — almost beyond my 
control. I had already wagered a very large 
sum upon my Messenger, and was ready to risk 
very much more. And yet, if I should lose all 
that I was ready to pledge, I knew I should be 
bankrupt. I had become so far led away. 

I was not only affected by my pride in my 
pet, and a desire to add to my fortune, but a 
national pride rose above these. As I said, two 
of the racers were from the English turf. We 
had not a great while before concluded the 
peace with England, after what we call “the 
late war,” and the old revolutionary feeling had 
not yet entirely died away. I was all over, and 
through and through, anti-British. If I should 
be made penniless, but could beat Old England, 
I believe I should have been entirely satisfied. 

Messenger was in excellent order. We had 
succeeded in reducing his flesh so that his ribs 
were just visible, and seemed to creep to and 
fro under his nicely loosened skin. His veius 
stood out prominently, and you could almost 
see the pulsation as the blood throbbed through 
them. He lifted his feet as if he weighed 
nothing. His eye flashed intelligence and the 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


183 


fire of health and vivacity. When he was 
reined up before the judges’ stand side by side 
with his competitors, at first he trembled like 
an aspen leaf; but he soon regained his com- 
posure, and I felt sure of victory. 

Every eye was fixed upon the racers. Men 
spoke low in the intensity of their feelings. No 
one laughed. It seemed positively solemn. 

The drivers sat their horses slightly inclining 
forward, holding the reins with just enough 
force to anticipate any sudden fright. 

And now all was ready. At a distance a single 
stroke upon a drum was the signal to go. The 
horses understood, without a word being spoken. 

Messenger fell in the rear. It was as I had 
planned. An English gentleman stepped to me 
and said: “Fifty thousand that Messenger is 
beaten this heat.” “ Taken,” I said, and passed 
my card to a mutual friend. 

Soon I had the satisfaction of seeing my pet 
gradually gain upon the others. At the half- 
mile most he was abreast of the foremost. At 
the three-quarter post he was a neck ahead. 
He came in a full length in advance! The 
Englishman’s horse was number two. 


184 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


What shouts rent the air ! What congratula- 
tions I received. I despatched a messenger to 
Helen, informing her of the result of the first 
heat, for she was almost as much interested as 
I was, although she generally opposed me in 
keeping a trotting horse. I believe she would 
have herself witnessed the race, but that her 
little girl — my only child — was lying quite ill 
with the scarlet fever. 

Friends gathered around and overwhelmed 
me with their congratulations. I was overcome 
— almost beside myself. I crossed over to the 
Englishman, and first with one, and then an- 
other, proposed to bet all that I had won and 
fifty thousand besides, that Messenger would 
win the mce. The race was to be decided by 
the horse gaining two out of the three* heats. 
Kone of them would take me up. At length a 
gentleman accepted my offer. He was appa- 
rently a stranger to all the company. I there- 
fore regarded him suspiciously. He brought 
forward his vouchers, which were satisfactory 
to the arbiters, and so it stood. If I should 
lose now, I would be a poor man ; but I was, 
for the time being, utterly beside myself. 


I 


THE WRECKMASTER. 185 

The time came for the next heat. Excitement 
ran higher. With almost the stillness of a 
funeral, the tens of thousands watched the 
struggling racers. At first, this time. Messen- 
ger led the whole. Gradually he fell hack, and 
came in at last number three ! 

What was the matter ? I feared treachery on 
the part of the driver. Perhaps he had been 
bribed. 

I approached him, and taking him on one side, 
said : “ Jim, I can ’t account for this bad defeat. 
If you win the next heat, I will make your 
promised reward of one thousand, five thousand 
dollars.” 

“Massa, I ’ll do my best, but I dun’no what 
ails him,” said Jim, and he cried like a baby. 

“I said, “Jim, did Mr. ,” mentioning the 

name of the man who had taken my immense 
v/ager, “say any thing to you?” 

“Yes, massa, he offer me three thousand ef 
I let Messenger be beat.” 

“ And what did you say?” 

“ I told him that I love dis yere boss like I do 
my life, and I ’d die fust. But, Massa, I dun’no 
what ails him. He coughed twice, and trembled 


180 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


jes’ as I stopped as ef he had de chills and 
fever.” 

I examined Messenger, and called a cele- 
brated farrier to aid me. "We discovered nothing 
special, except that there was occasionally a 
gutteral breathing very low down in his wind- 
pipe. We, however, pronounced him sound; 
and when the time was called for the last heat, 
he was promptly in his place. 

A third time the drum tapped. Again the 
horses flew like the wind. Messenger went as 
if wild. He took the lead at the start, and kept 
it past the quarter post, past the half post, past 
the three-quarter post, when suddenly he fell 
back, the others passed him, and when within 
twenty feet of the stand he stopped, trembled, 
and fell dead! 

I was beaten. The hated Englishman had 
won. I was bankrupt, and my beautiful horse 
dead upon the course. O, what agony was mine ! 

I did not know what to think. I dismissed 
the idea of treachery. Then I recalled Jim’s 
remark that Messenger coughed after the second 
heat, and my hearing of the hoarse sound in his 
throat. I concluded he had been poisoned ; and 



Thk Death op Messenger.— P. 18(5 




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^ f • 4 ' 


* . 

.-’V. ■ • 



i 4 


THE WRECKMASTER. 187 

it must have been by the gentleman wno had 
accepted my large wager. 

And yet Jim said that he did not touch the 
horse, but only examined him at a distance. 
No one had sponged his mouth but Jim himself. 
I swore most horrible oaths. May God forgive 
me ! I raved like a madman. I cried vengeance 
and blood to whoever should be the criminal. 

The doctors assembled and dissected Mes- 
senger’s stomach, and there, sure enough, were 
the unmistakable traces of poison. 

But who did it? I could not convict the 
strange gentleman. I charged him with it, but 
of course he indignantly denied it. I employed 
an officer, with the promise of an enormous 
sum, forgetting that I was a pauper, to ferret 
out the matter. 

I was too greatly mortified to return to my 
home. I went to the tavern and called for 
brandy. I drank and drank again. I jumped 
on an omnibus and rode ten miles into the city. 
I went to a low groggery in Water street, and 
drank until I was again the beast that I had 
been once before. In the morning I found my- 
self, with scarcely any clothing on my person. 


188 * 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


lying on a cellar door attached to one of tho 
worst dens in New York city. 

As I began to recover, I was so ashamed that 
I went immediately to a shipping office and 
booked myself as a sailor before the mast, on 
board a vessel that was to sail that day. I did 
not know where she was bound, nor did I care. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


180 


CHAPTER THE FOURTEEKTH. 

WHICH BEARS THE WRECKMASTER ABROAD. 



[HE ship was the “ Calais.” She was 
bound for Bordeaux, in France. 
Her crew was composed almost en 
tirely of Frenchmen. The captain 
could speak English quiet fluently. There was 
also a negro on board as a passenger ; and he 
was the only passenger. 

I had shaved oflT my beard, and being in full 
sailor costume, I felt sure of not being recognized. 

As I gradually sobered from my desperate de- 
bauch, and began to reflect upon my course, my 
reflections were exceedingly painful. 

I was certainly a pauper. I had deserted my 
lovely young wife and the prettiest little babe 
that ever was born ; and now I w^as upon the 


190 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 


broad ocean, leaving my native land, and en- 
gaged in an employment for which I was not 
only not adapted, but which was positively 
repulsive to all my tastes and inclinations. 

I performed my duties to the best of my abili- 
ty, and in silence received the profane rebukes 
or the coarse compliments of the officer in com- 
mand. Assuming that I did not comprehend 
the French language (in which I permitted him 
to be deceived), he made allowance for my nu- 
merous blunders on that account. 

I need not narrate the particulars of the voy- 
age, for all sea voyages are pretty nearly the 
same. After the first few days they become 
extremely monotonous. We saw a few icebergs, 
occasionally a whale, every day large shoals of 
porpoises. One day the water was green, an- 
other a chestnut brown, and again yellow. The 
dift'erent varieties of sea-grass, the phosphores- 
cence, and the currents, afforded me opportuni- 
ties to apply some of my knowledge of natural 
history. One day and night we had a severe 
storm. I admired its grandeur, and was sorry 
when it ceased. We also came near having an 
affair with what the captain said was an English 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


191 


cruiser, for the English were at war with the 
French at that tinie, the great Kapoleon being 
Emperor of France. 

One evening, just before we reached our port 
of destination, and the sailors were gathered in 
groups telling the stories of their lives and 
adventures by land and by sea, I overheard the 
name of Mr. , my mother’s husband, men- 

tioned. I drew near the group, and discovered 
that it was the negro passenger telling a com- 
pany of sailors a story of a horse race. He was 
speaking in very glib French. 

I sat down among them and listened. Like 
the rest, the negro supposed that I did not un- 
derstand the language, so he manifested no 
reserve whatever, and I heard the whole plot 
from beginning to end — how Mr. had em- 

ployed him to accompany the strange gentleman 
who accepted my large wager on the race ; how 
well he had been paid to get poison in the 
sponge used to refresh Messenger’s mouth at 
the end of each heat ; and how he immediately 
left for New York, and heard in the evening 
how well he had succeeded. 

In this unexpected way I learned the extent 


192 THE WRECKMASTER. 

of the hatred of that man for me. He had 
deliberately set about to ruin me, and, as far as 
wealth was concerned, he had succeeded. 

I determined to learn more from the negro, 
and looked for an opportunity to see him alone. 
When it came, I asked him if he understood 
English. 

“O, yes,” he said, “I was born in New 
York.” 

“ Indeed 1” I replied. “And how, then, did 
you get a knowledge of French?” 

“Why, you see,” he said, “ I have lived with 

Mr. in New York and in Havre this twen 

ty years.” 

I scanned him closely, and then remembered 
that he was the negro who was my medium of 
communication with my mother through Brown. 

“Where do you live in France?” I inquired. 

“ In Havre.” 

“Why did you not take a vessel bound foi 
Havre, instead of this one to Bordeaux?” 

“Well, you see,” he said, “ I got into a kind 
of a scrape, and I took this ship to put the offi- 
cers off the track.” 

This ended the conversation at that time. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


193 


I had shipped only to the port for which the 
vessel was bound. This was the case with all 
the men, for France being at war with England, 
it was uncertain when a return voyage could be 
made. 

Arrived at the wharf, I received my pay, 
which amounted to quite a sum in gold. I then 
proposed to the negro to accompany him to 
Havre. The distance was about four hundred 
miles in a north-westerly direction. It was no 
slight undertaking. 

We started on foot, resolved that we would 
take the high road leading to Paris. When we 
had got well out of the city, and in a lonely 
part of the road, I turned to the negro, and in 
the French language told him that I was Sin- 
gleton, and that it was my horse which he had 
poisoned. 

He started to run, but I tripped him, and 
grappling him by the throat, held him until he 
begged for his life, and told me he would do any 
thing in the world for me. 

His name was Job. 

“ Job,” I said, “if you will lead me to where 

Mr. lives in Havre, and help bear my ex- 

13 


194 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


penses there, I ’ll forgive you every thing ; hut 
if you attempt to deceive me, I ’ll take youi 
life’s blood.” 

“O, massa Singleton!” he said, “I’ll do 
any thing ; I ’ll do any thing ; only do n’t kill 
me.” 

The fellow really felt that his life was forfeit 
ed, and that I had the right to take it ; and to 
show the extent of his fear, he unbuckled the 
belt of gold he had about his person, and gave 
it to me. He then said he would go as my ser- 
vant. 

We soon became friends. I promised him 
that I would use no more of the money than 
was necessary to defray our expenses, and he 
seemed satisfied. 

We were occasionally interrupted by military 
officials in our course, but our papers, dismiss- 
ing me as a French sailor, and Job as the ser- 
vant of an American gentleman at Havre, car- 
ried us through. 

Sometimes we rode in a regular passenger 
conveyance, sometimes in an army wagon, and 
some days we walked the whole time. It took 
us about a fortnight to reach the city of Havre. 


THE WHECKMASTER. 


195 


And now my j^lan was to rescue my mother. 
It seemed as if Providence had called me to 
France for this very purpose. But how to pro- 
ceed was the great question. I hardly dared 
trust the negro, for he was false to his master 
in Kew York. He had also lent himself to the 
commission of a great crime. I finally con- 
cluded to work upon his fears. 

The night we arrived in Havre we took lodg- 
ings at a sailors’ boarding-house. We slept in 
the same room. I had purchased a suitable 
citizen’s dress on my journey, and Job passed 
for my body-servant. 

In the middle of the night I went to his bed 
armed with a dagger and a pistol. I shook him 
until he awoke. His first impulse was to scream 
out, but I placed my hand on his mouth, at the 
same instant telling him to be quiet and he 
should not be harmed. 

“Job,” I said, “I mean that you shall not 
betray me. You have reduced me from wealth 
to poverty. You were the means of my break- 
ing a most solemn pledge never to drink intoxi- 
cating liquor — that which has been the curse of 
my life. You made me fly from my home, my 


196 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


wife, and little child. But Providence has 
placed you in my way, and through you I may 
accomplish one object in life, namely, to get 
my mother to America. Job, you are in my 
power. In this city there is living an American 
consul whom I happen to know, and who was 
once confidential clerk in my father’s store in 
New York. I will have no difficulty in getting 
you arrested and taken back to New York to be 
tried for your crime ; and I will do it unless you 
aid me in my plans. If I succeed, you will be 
rewarded. You see I can afford to be desperate, 
for I have nothing to lose ; and I can also afford 
to be generous if I succeed, for with my moth- 
er’s income from her own patrimony, and my 
wife’s prospective fortune from her father, I will 
have ample means at my command.” 

Job assented to this, if I would allow him to 
get back to New York, for he said he hated to 
live in Prance; and besides, he was tired of 

doing the mean business Mr. required him 

to do. 

We walked together to view the premises 

where Mr. and my mother resided. It 

was a stone house, with a carriage drive right 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 


197 


through the center, which was now closed by 
two nicely fitting gates. This was the only 
mode of entrance in the front, the house, other- 
wise, being fiush with the street. It was sur- 
rounded by a large garden, which was enclosed 
hy a very heavy stone fence, very high, and 
with sharp spear-heads pointing the whole 
length’ of the top. 

We went around the garden until we came to 
a little gate opening from a very narrow alley- 
way, and in the very corner of the garden. It 
was so extremely low that one had to stoop to 
enter it, and was so arranged as to be entirely 
concealed from the casual observer. Job told 
me of the course from this gate to his room, for 
when at home he acted in the double capacity 
of butler and gate-keeper. 

We then returned to our lodgings, and ar- 
ranged that each night, at a certain time agreed 
upon the night previous, and at a given signal, 
I was to have a conference with him at the 
gate. I could then keep myself acquainted with 
all the movements of Mr. , and so accom- 

plish my purpose and liberate my mother. 

I sought and obtained employment as trans- 


198 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


lating clerk in the branch of a Philadelphia 
mercantile house. I took humble lodgings, and 
disguised myself as completely as possible. I 
had my hair cropped, and permitted no beard 
to grow except on the upper lip.- I also passed 
under an assumed name, and led my employers 
to believe that I had been some yean? in Paris. 

One day, as I sat at my desk in the inner 
office, who should come into the store but the 
man who had ruined me in the race. He in- 
quired for Mr. , and took his seat just 

beneath the httle pigeon-hole opening on my 
desk. In a few moments the husband of m.y 
mother entered, and after a most cordial greet- 
ing and welcome back to France, took a seat by 
his side. 

“ Tell me all about it — all about it from be- 
ginning to end, Davis,” said Mr. . 

“Davis I Davis I” I said to myself. Ah! I 
have made a discovery. After Mr. Pelham had 
left my father’s employ as confidential clerk, he 
employed a Mr. Davis in his place, and he was 
there until my father failed. I had never seen 
him, but this gave an explanation of what 
Brown had said — that Mr. had been in- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


199 


strumental in producing my father’s insolvency. 
This, then, was the man. If he could lend 

himself to Mr. in the first instance, of 

course he was prepared for the other. 

O, how my head throbbed and my heart beat 
with excitement ! Here were the enemies to my 
peace — my life-long persecutors, under my very 
eyes. I could hear their faintest whisper. I 
could almost hear them breathe. I found it 
difficult to restrain myself. Involuntarily I 
looked for some weapon with which to take 
summary revenge. I grasped a paper-weight 
in my excitement, when the post-boy thrust a 
handful of letters through the pigeon-hole. 

This diverted my attention, and brought back 
the sober second thought. I passed the letters 
to the head of the firm, and then resumed my 
place. And then I heard Davis’ account of his 
nefarious expedition. 

“Well, Mr. ,” he said, “I followed your 

directions most explicitly. Job was faithful 
all through, and I think his reward ought to be 
increased. 

“ When we landed in Xew York, we went to 
the Merchants’ Hotel, and there we found out 


200 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


how the wind blew. All the Americans were 
loud in praise of Singleton’s horse, ‘Messenger.’ 
Bets ran high ; and after finding out, by sliding 
here and there among the Englishmen, which 
was the fastest from their side of the water, I 
took up the bets which were made two to one 
by the Americans on Messenger. I knew Mes- 
senger should not beat, and I also knew which 
of the English horses was the best. So you see 
I had a sure thing of it. 

“It was a good thing for us, Mr. , that 

you gave me the liberty to draw on you that 
you did. In consequence, we are each a hun- 
dred thousand better off to-day than before I 
left France.” 

“That is all very well,” replied Mr. . • 

“ But about Singleton — did you do the business 
for him?” 

“'Well, I reckon I” replied Davis. “If ever 
there was a goose plucked, he was the one. We 
completely broke him. His place, cattle, horses, 
and all have passed under the hammer — every 
thing is gone. There happened to be enough 
to satisfy all his creditors, but that took all. 
Indeed, I felt so sorry for his family that I 


THE WRECKMASTER. 201 

called upon old Olcott and offered him ten thou- 
sand dollars for her benefit. But you know 
what a proud old fellow he is. He told me to 
keep my money, that he had enough ; but if I 
could cure the desolate heart of his daughter, 
he would be thankful.” 

I felt faint, and came near falling off of my 
stool. O, my poor little Helen I And I the 
whole cause of it. But I rallied and yet lis- 
tened. 

“ But what became of Singleton?” asked Mr. 

. “Job could not tell me any thing about 

him. You know Job sailed on the first tide, 
early the next morning.” 

“Well, there’s a mystery about Singleton,” 
replied Davis. “Some say that he committed 
suicide, and some that he left immediately for 
foreign parts. It is certain that his clothing 
was found at an old clothes establishment in 
Chatham street, Kew York, except his panta- 
loons, which were fished out of the water near 
the dock, and had the unmistakable name writ- 
ten in India ink upon the lining of the watch- 
pocket. This is the evidence for his suicide, in 
connection with the fact that he became grossly 


202 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


intoxicated, and lay in the cellar of a Water 
street dance-house all night after the race.” 

“Well,” said Mr. , “that ’s pretty good 

circumstantial evidence ; but I ’d like to hear 
that they ’ve found the body. I hope it is so. 
But why do some disbelieve the suicide? Is 
there any positive evidence that he is alive?” 

“Mr. Olcott, I understand, sa3^s there is,” 
replied Davis ; “and he surely is interested in 
knowing.” 

“But what evidence has he?” 

“ I did not get it directly from himself, but 
another told me that Mr. Olcott has satisfactory 
proof that Singleton had sailed for France.” 

“For France !” exclaimed Mr. , rising to 

his feet. “Singleton in this country I Then 
there is more trouble ahead. Why did you tell 
me this, Davis? I can ’t sleep now for the 
memories of the past, and I had thought that 
the knowledge that Singleton was in his grave 
would bring his mother around right, and I 
might know a little happiness yet.” 

And he buried his face in his hands and sat 
thinking. What did he think? 

Davis aroused him, and they left the store. 


THE WKECKMASTER. 


203 


CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH. 

REVEALS A DOUBLE SURPRISE. 

KEPT up a regular communication 
with Job. He had not yet re- 
vealed to my mother my arrival at 
Havre. For two months I endured 
this suspense. In the meantime I wrote to my 
wife. Besides expressing my sincere repentance 
for my course, and my determination to adhere 
to my total abstinence pledge if she would for- 
give my disgraceful fall, or find excuse for it by 
the extreme provocation in the case, I gave her 
my assumed name and address. I had not yet 
heard from her, but expected some sort of com- 
munication by the next ship coming from Ame- 
rica. 

I counted the days, and then the hours when 



204 THE WRECKMASTER. 

a letter might be expected. At length the mail 
arrived. It was thrust through the pigeon-hole 
of my desk. I ran quickly over the superscrip- 
tions, but there was none for me. With trem- 
bling hand I passed the package to the main 
desk and returned, and with my head between 
my hands, I wept like a child. 

All sorts of questions passed through my 
mind. Could it be that Helen had cast me off? 
True, I thought, I had merited it, but I could 
not believe it possible. If so, what of my little 
child, the young Helen? She was my child. 
My heart went out to her. Every morning and 
evening I mentioned her name in my prayers to 
God. Am I then alone — all, all alone ? 

These reflections were painful, and I must 
have been absorbed in them for a long time. 
The bell on the tower was striking twelve, 
while I thought that it was yet only the begin- 
ning of the business hours. This aroused me, 
and turning my head in the direction of the 
entrance, I saw what I thought to be an appari- 
tion. And who do you suppose it was? Her- 
nando, my favorite colored boy, and just come 
from America — from home I I could have em- 


THE WRECKMA6TER. 205 

braced and kissed him on the spot ; but I had 
sufticient self-composure to restrain myself, and 
Hernando had evidently been instructed to be 
cautious, for he pretended not to recognize me, 
although he was looking straight into my face. 

The porter approached me and said that there 
was a colored boy just arrived from America, 
who wanted to see some one who could converse 
in the English language ; and knowing that I 
had lived in America, he asked if I would not 
see him. 

I was too happy to converse with him under 
such a plausible cover as this. So I beckoned 
him to come into the rear of the store, and 
there, seated each upon a bale of goods, I heard 
good news from home. 

Helen’s father was a man of kind disposition, 
but of a very strong will. He saw the letter I 
had written, and with repressed emotion had 
forbidden Helen writing a reply. A dependent 
upon him, almost a worshiper of her father, she 
could not disobey him ; but she resolved to com- 
municate, notwithstanding. With the breaking 
up of my home after my flight, Hernando had 
been thrown out of regular employment, and 


206 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


had made his living chiefly by holding and tend- 
ing the horses of the gentlemen who stopped at 
Snedicor’s hotel in their daily drives. With her 
daughter, Helen directed Pierre to drive, the 
next day, on the Jamaica turnpike as far as 
Snedicor’s. He was happy to do this, for he 
had not seen his son Hernando since the day of 
the fatal race. 

Helen had all her jewels, except some which 
her father had given her, converted into cash, 
to which she added a large amount her father 
had the day previous handed to her for her own 
use. With this she directed Pierre to prepare 
Hernando, and ship him by the next vessel for 
Havre. She told him what to do, what to con- 
ceal, and what to reveal. He was to remain 
near me, and remittances were to come to him 
for me. I was to live according to my station, 
and Hernando was, as of old, to be my body 
servant. And then I was patiently to wait. 
Helen thought that time would repair the 
breach between her father and myself, and if I 
remained true to myself, we might be again 
reunited. 

This was the substance of what Hernando 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


207 


conveyed to me. But he brought me a minia- 
ture ivory portrait in a beautiful gold frame. 
There it is, jmung gentlemen. (And the old 
wreckmaster, with trembling finger, pointed to 
the portrait on the wall which we have before 
described. ) 

What a treasure that was to me I How many 
times has the sight of that sweet, innocent face 
restrained me from excess in vice I Yes, more 
than once I think it has kept back the suicide’s 
hand. I have carried it over the ocean time 
and again, and nothing could tempt me to part 
with it. 

I directed Hernando where to meet me after 
business hours. He then aided me in transfer- 
ring my scanty wardrobe to a more suitable 
lodging-house, and he remained in my service. 

.Fearing lest some mishap might prevent me 
from receiving regular remittances from home, 

I continued to hold my place in the office. I 
also met Job very frequently at the gate in the 
rear of the walled garden. I took Hernando 
with me, that he might become acquainted with 
the locality, thinking that perhaps his services 
might at some time be required. 


208 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


My object in not permitting my presence in 
Havre to be known to my mother, was to pre- 
vent any chance of her husband ascertaining 
the fact of our communication. It was better 
to wait until some propitious circumstance 
should temporarily call him away from home. 

I was compelled to wait a long while. The 
delay was painful in the extreme. I had the 
satisfaction, however, of learning that my 
mother was in excellent health, and that she 
was not subject to the brutal treatment she was 
accustomed to in Hew York. Her liberty, how- 
ever, was curtailed, and she was made aware 
that she was all the while under the suspicious 
eye of a jealous husband. 

He was not jealous from any fear that she 
loved another except her son — myself. But he 
knew that not only did she not love him, but 
she hated his very presence. Her deportment 
before him was that of a dignified lady simply 
discharging her duty. It was cold duty, with 
the absence of anything like affection. 

A circumstance occurred which came very 
near frustrating my long-cherished plan of ab- 
ducting my mother. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


209 


One day Hernando came in at my dinner hour 
very much excited, crying out, “ O, Massa Sin- 
gleton, I ’ve seed her I I ’ve seed her !” 

“Seen whom?” I asked. 

“Why, Missus Singleton, sure. 'And, massa, 
she knowed me, too.” 

“Was her husband with her?” I inquired. 

“ O yes, and he axed me where Massa Single- 
ton lived now-a-days. ” 

“Well, and what did you say to him, Her- 
nando?” 

“ O, I told him a whopper, jest a whopper. 
I told him you was dead and buried long ago.” 

“What did he say then?” 

“He asked where I lived, and what I was 
doing in France.” 

“What then?” 

“ I jest told him that I came over as body 
servant with Mr. White, who was going back 
next week. And then I said it was dinner time 
and I must go.” 

Hernando’s discovery placed me in danger, 
but his strategy (if bare-faced deception can be 
called such) put Mr. olf the track. 

His thoughts after the conversation which I 
14 ' 


210 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


overheard under my pigeon-hole, had led him 
to make diligent inquiry for me. Job informed 
me that he had frequently questioned him about 
the crew and passengers who came over in the 
ship with him. He had also consulted the books 
at the different hotels to ascertain if I had 
arrived in Havre. But all to no purpose. ] 
had a fortunate escape. 

And now my course seemed clear. Mr. , 

having his suspicions of my presence allayed, 
would feel at liberty to go from home ; for Job 
had told me that he had never remained for as 
long a period in his house before. 

A few evenings after this, I had the satisfac- 
tion^ of knowing that Mr. had gone to* the 

south of France in company with my other de- 
spoiler and enemy. 

I left Hernando and Job in conversation at 
the open gate while I proceeded to the house, 
having received correct information as to the 
habits and room my mother occupied. 

I went up a rear stairway, knocked at the 
door, and was admitted by herself. 

The shock was too sudden. She had evident- 
ly accepted Hernando’s report of my death as 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


211 


a fact ; so tliat my appearance there must have 
seemed like one risen from the dead. She stood 
for a moment motionless and pale, and then 
sunk into my arms in a swoon. 

I feared to call for help. So, placing her 
upon a lounge, I looked for some restorative, 
and found Cologne water, with which I bathed 
her face, and also applied it to her nostrils. 

She slowly recovered, and, as if still uncon- 
scious of the reality, said : 

‘‘My son 1 my dear boy I God has answered 
my prayer. Come, let us away.” 

I calmed her, and told her that my plans 
were not ripe as yet, but my intention was to 
bear her across the ocean. 

0, now, now,” she said. “I am afraid of 
delays. We were defeated once, and I dread 
the consequences if it should happen again.” 

1, however, satisfied her that there was no 
need of haste, but advised her to make all pre- 
parations for a sudden departure. I also told 
her that Job was in my confidence and in my 
power, and that he was compelled to do what I 
commanded. 

My mother then gave me her sad history, I 


212 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


sat for two hours listening to lier tale of woes. 
Her repentance was deep and sincere ; and her 
love for me was — well, I say all when I say a 
mother’s love. I felt the need of this in my for- 
lorn condition, just as much as she needed to 
know that I loved her. 

We parted with a good-night kiss. Job met 
me at the door and conducted me to the garden 
gate. I heard him close it behind me, while 
with Hernando I hastened back toward my 
lodgings. 

This had been one of those periods of exqui- 
site bliss .which happen occasionally in a life- 
time. The hope of meeting again, which had 
been so long deferred, and which had made the 
heart so often sick, had been realized. All my 
doubts respecting my mother had been removed, 
all my fears allayed; and I found myself no 
longer the orphan deserted one. I was the 
prodigal returned. I had found a heart. That 
heart was mine ; it was rightfully mine. Mother 
— my mother, and I her only son. And now to 
know it when I had become a man, to know it 
in a strange land, to know it as one banished 
and disgraced, to know it when a friend was 


THE WRECKMASTER. 213 

most needed, to find that friend, and she my 
own long estranged, long absent mother I 

It was a luxury of bliss. It almost intoxicated 
me. As trouble had, on previous occasions, 
made me wakeful and sleepless, so this full cup 
of delight came near turning my brain. And as 
great trouble had, in the past, been the occasion 
for my sudden rushing to the wine cup, and 
from this to the grossest forms of intoxication, 
so I found the same influence drawing me 
through the intense excitement of superabun- 
dant joy. 

Hernando walked by my side. As I came 
near my hotel, the sound of revelry proceeding 
from a saloon arrested my attention. I paused, 
and told Hernando I guessed we would stop 
in a moment. 

The place was brilliant with lights and merry 
with music. Scores of ladies and' gentlemen 
were promenading between the rows of tables 
arranged on either side. 

I took a seat, Hernando standing behind my 
chair. A waitress approached me, and inquired 
what I would like to have. I hesitated a mo- 
ment, and then said “ Brandy.” 


214 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


The bottle was brought and the glass. I 
lifted it to pour out the liquor, when Hernando 
caught my arm. I asked what he meant. 

“O, nuffin, Massa,” he said, and released me. 

I took the bottle again, and he repeated the 
same act. 

I lifted the bottle and struck him with all the 
force I could command. The blow took effect 
upon his arm instead of his head , as I intended. 
The bottle was shattered into a thousand pieces. 

The people rushed to the rescue of the poor 
negro, for I had pounced upon him with the 
ferocity of. a tiger. 

As soon as I recovered myself, I found that 1 
was in the hands of an officer. Hernando 
pleaded for my release. I immediately saw the 
whole proceeding. My excitement had found 
rest. I did not longer crave the stimulating 
liquor. 

I could have kissed the swollen wound I had 
made upon the arm of my poor boy. I actually 
did ask his pardon in the presence of the officers 
and those surrounding us. I was also compelled 
to make a confession of my weakness when 
under the pressure of any great excitement, and 


TnK WRECKMASTER. 


215 


how Hernando had saved me from another dis- 
graceful downfall. 

I have never forgotten his wisdom and fidelity 
on that occasion. It was one of the many times 
I have had occasion to test him, and it would 
be impossible for any bribe to draw that man 
from my service. 

Sleep slowly crept over me after I had lain 
myself down upon my bed. But the gray dawn 
of the morning was just then appearing. It 
was late in the day when I arose. My head 
throbbed, my pulse beat quickly, my hands were 
hot, and my tongue thicK. I felt that I was 
again on tbe verge of a crisis; but I thanked 
God and Hernando that just then the fatal cnj 
had been smitten from my hand. 


21G 


THE WBECKMASTEE. 


CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH 


TELLB OF THE RESCUE, FLIGHT, AND DISPERSION. 


FTER several brief interviews, stolen 
and by night through the rear gate 
of the stone wall, every thing was 
so completely arranged that it re 



quired no secresy to carry out the plan for my 

mother’s rescue. As I said before, Mr. ’s 

widowed daughter and her little son were in- 
mates of his household. I had never met them ; 
and from all that I could learn from Job, theii 
relations with my mother were pleasant. 

A part of our project was, however, to get 
them out of the way. To do this, we were 
obliged to resort to another strategy, which was 
the same in kind as that used to decoy Mr. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 217 

away from his ^ home on the occasion of the 
attempt at rescue in New York. 

Knowing that Mr. was expected to re- 

main for some weeks longer in the south of 
France, we used a decoy letter, inviting her and 
her little boy, with their attending maid-ser- 
vant, to visit him there and return home in his 
company. As an excuse for Mr. not him- 

self writing, and as an additional reason for her 
to come to him immediately, we stated that he 
was afflicted with the inflammatory rheumatism 
which had settled in his right arm and shoulder, 
and so had disqualified him from using the pen. 

She made immediate preparations for her de- 
parture ; Job and my mother assisted. She had 
no sooner gone than the trunks were packed, 
the passage engaged, and Job and my mother 
waited the day of sailing. 

The time seemed long; but, disguised again 
as a common sailor, I stood upon the pier and 
saw the vessel sail away to America, home, and 
freedom I 

To avoid suspicion, Hernando and I had en- 
gaged to sail from another port. I closed my 
accounts at the store, and together I and my 


218 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


faithful boy started on foot to take our depart- 
ure. We were obliged to wait several days. 
On the morning we expected to sail, I was dis- 
mayed by reading an account in one of the 

Havre papers “of the elopement of Mrs. , 

the wife of the celebrated American banker, Mr. 
,” which was followed by a minute descrip- 
tion of her appearance, a reward offered for her 
arrest, and also for the arrest of her son, a 
young man recently in the employ of Messrs. 

& , commission merchants. This 

meant myself. A reward goes a great way in 
France, and the police are very vigilant ; so I 
trembled for fear that the officers of the law 
were on my track. 

However, the vessel weighed anchor at the 
appointed time. I was on board as a ftrst-class 
passenger, with Hernando as my servant. All 
fears of capture were now at an end. 

I had left behind me a long letter addressed 

to Mr. , acquainting him with the fact that 

I was instrumental in delivering my mother 
from her bondage to him. I gave him the rea- 
sons therefor in plain language. I also warned 
him not to pursue her to New York, for, besides 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


219 


other modes of punishment which I had in 
hand, I should arrest him for a conspiracy to 
bankrupt my father ; that I had sufficient evi- 
dence to convict him, not only of that crime, 
but also of the other, no less base, of reducing 
me to poverty. 

Notwithstanding this, Mr. did attempt 

to follow her. As I afterwards learned, he took 
the very next ship from Havre for New York. 
The ship was wrecked off the west coast of Ire- 
land, and he was numbered among the lost. 
The sea had received its prey. This time the 
victim was one whose crimes rendered him unfit 
to live; and from its watery depths his soul 
took its flight to the presence of the Great Judge 
of all. There we are content to leave him. I 
followed him there with no imprecations. God 
is just. His counsel shall stand. And what is 
His pleasure I am perfectly content to accept as 
mine. 

One thing, however, it brought me — a sense 
of relief. Although it was some years before I 
learned of it, I felt that at least my mother was 
safe and among friends, and for ever separated 
from him. 


220 - 


THE WRECKMASTEE. 


From this point my fortunes took a singular 
turn. 

The sea, at that time, was full of cruisers, 
some from America, and many from England. 
We were at peace with both nations, but more 
friendly toward the French than the English. 
These cruisers did not call themselves pirates, 
but their conduct was very similar. Americans, 
in their lawless procedure, sought to make for- 
tunes from any English or French merchantmen 
they could overhaul. 

While among the West India Islands, where 
we had been driven by stress of weather, one 
morning we discovered a suspicious looking 
sloop under full sail, making directly for us. It 
was useless for us to attempt to get out of her 
way, for the numerous little islands and coral 
reefs compelled us carefully to select our chan- 
nel, while the sloop could cross many of the 
latter, and course her way through little streams 
not large enough for a full-masted ship. 

At length she approached us and gave the sig- 
nal for us to put up the helm, when a boat’s crew 
came aboard armed with pistols and cutlasses. 
They were a ferocious looking set of men. It 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


221 


would have been madness to attempt any resist- 
ance, for besides their own weapons, two brazen 
cannon were pointed through the port-holes of 
the sloop, ready, if occasion demanded, to rake 
our whole length. 

The officer in command demanded our papers. 
These were delivered up. Then he asked for 
the treasure. This was chiefly in Spanish milled 
silver dollars and half dollars, and was packed 
in kegs and canvas bags, and stored in the 
cabin. He gave a signal, and immediately an- 
other crew put out from the sloop in another 
yawl, into which was placed the ship’s treasure. 
Then he required each one of us to be searched, 
and all our private property was taken except 
the clothing upon our persons. 

Then calling the crew together, the captain 
made a speech, in which he said that he was a 
man of honor, and so were all his men ; but 
that he had been wronged, grossly wronged, 
even to the loss of his property, his family dis- 
honored, and himself made an orphan, by the 
owner of this vessel : and he had sworn both to 
have revenge and to retrieve his fortunes. Now 
he had secured it. He had followed us from the 


222 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


coast of Trance with this object in view, and he 
had accomplished it. He had never molested 
another vessel, and had no designs further than 
to divide the booty with his men and return to 
America, and there live quietly the remainder of 
his days. 

We now expected, from this display of mag- 
nanimity, that we would be permitted to go on 
our way. We waited anxiously his decision 
upon this point. 

Turning to us again, he said: “Dead men 
tell no tales. But do not be frightened. Should 
I permit you to go to New York, you would be 
so many witnesses against me. I should surely 
be convicted of piracy on the high seas, and my 
portion would be a short piece of rope on Gib- 
bet’s Island, along with Captain Kidd. You 
may rest assured I shall escape that fate, if 
possible. I am driven, therefore, to this alter- 
native. I leave you to choose.” 

Pointing to an island about ten miles distant, 
he said: “That island is uninhabited. There 
is no mode of approach there for a large vessel, 
and but one narrow entrance for a sloop. I 
believe I am the only man who can reach it 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 


223 


except by small boats through the breakers. 
Now I propose that you allow me to run this 
ship hard upon the shoals in a place which I 
shall select, and from which you can have access 
to her from the main land, and that I land all 
of you upon the shore ; that you each and every 
one sign a parole, which I have here prepared, 
■ not to seek to escape for a period of two years ; 
that you accept these conditions, or diet My 
case is desperate, and yet I wish to be merciful. 
Your ship is bountifully provisioned with a mis- 
cellaneous cargo, and the island itself will spon- 
taneously provide your necessary food.” 

We looked at each other in dismay. To be 
cast on a desolate island, under a tropical sun, 
and to remain there for two years ! O, horrible 1 
And yet either this or death. 

We pleaded with him, but in vain. One im- 
pulsive sailor said he ’d die first. 

“ So be it,” said the captain ; and raising his 
pistol, he fired. The man fell, and lay on the 
deck weltering in his gore. 

This determined our course. We agreed to 
the terms, and signed the parole. One after 
another the men were transferred to the sloop 


224 


THE WRECIvMASTER. 


and there placed under guard. A few remained, 
by our captor’s order, to assist in managing the 
vessel. 

He signalled the sloop to follow the ship, and 
then, taking the helm into his own hands, he 
guided us through a very tortuous channel, 
seemingly hardly wide enough between the 
reefs for her to pass. Certainly there was no 
way of receding. 

We saw the end of the channel about a mile 
distant. Crowding all sail, he drove the great 
ship hard up over the first and upon the second 
ridge of coral. 

The water scarcely covered the ridges. We 
saw that the ship was hopelessly ashore, and 
that the land was within easy reach. 

The sloop slowly glided under her stem, and 
a few yards beyond reached a beautiful open 
harbor. 

For the moment I did not feel sorry that we 
had experienced the adventure; for the place 
itself was so transcendently beautiful. We could 
look down into the deep waters between the 
coral ridges for sixty or a hundred feet, and see 
the fish by thousands, of all sorts, shapes, and 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


225 


colors, passing in and out of their places of 
refuge. On the shore were tall and graceful 
palm trees, up which were growing immense 
trailing vines, with flowers whose perfume 
almost intoxicated the senses. Birds of bright 
plumage flitted to and fro among the leaves 
and the vines, and sent out notes wild and soft, 
unusual to our ears. The ground itself seemed 
crowded with the luxuriant growth of shrub, 
while the banana tree seemed loaded to the 
earth with its wealth of fruit. 

It was just the place for a colony ; but we did 
not, after all, relish the idea of being enforced 
colonists. ^Ye were there, however, and com- 
pelled to make the best of it. We had the ship 
for a home until we could erect one on the shore, 
and we had provisions sufficient for our support 
for a long while to come. The thought of ab- 
sence from home, with no prospect of conimuni- 
cation, even, was sad enough. 

The cruiser’s captain promised that after two 
years he would, by some means, make known 
our whereabouts, so that those of us who wished 
it could returmto their homes. He added that 
we might blab then as much as we pleased— the 
15 


226 


THE W11ECK3IASTER. 


more the better, as he wished his French enemy 
to know who and what hurt him ; and as for 
liimself, he would be far enough away to be 
beyond the possibility of harm. 

We saw the sloop, with its crew and its trea- 
sure, depart. With a homesick feeling we 
watched it until the hull disappeared, and then 
the masts, and then the little streamer on her 
jieak, which we continued to follow with the 
ship’s glass. It had gone. 

We then directed our attention to ourselves. 

Our captain said he had been in these waters 
before ; that he had his bearings ; that this island 
was not upon the chart, it being so entirely sur- 
rounded by reefs; that only the reefs were 
marked. There was one thing he knew, and 
that was that although the ordinary flow and 
ebb of the tide was not very great, still at times, 
and as the effect of earthquakes in these lati- 
tudes, there came, occasionally, a great tidal 
wave, which swept every thing before it. He 
also added that the present was the time of 
year — and there were other circumstances indi- 
cating it — for the occurrence of these phenome- 
na. He therefore counselled that we procure 


THE WRECKMASTER. 227 

canvas and spars sufficient from the ship to 
make a tent well up on the island. 

We followed his advice, and in a few hours 
had erected a very large and comfortable house. 
Hernando and two of the ship’s boys had in the 
meantime caught a large quantity of fish, and one 
huge green turtle. The former was prepared by 
the ship’s cook, and our first meal was a feast. 
The turtle was turned over on his back and left 
there to meditate upon his probable fate. 

The captain’s prognostications were correct, 
for during the night we heard a strange, un- 
earthly roar. The air was still and stilling. 
Not a leaf stirred. We looked out toward the 
ship, and behold! she was entirely out of the 
water, for the sea had receded, and it seemed as 
if we were miles inland. 

Still we heard the unearthly roar ; and by the 
light of the moon we looked through the glass, 
and there, sure enough, was the great tidal 
wave. It looked as if it reached to the very 
heavens, one great, upheaving mass of water, 
black and threatening ! On it came. We hoped 
it would spend its force before it reached us ; but 
we began to fear. 


228 


THE WRECKM ASTER. 


“To the trees! to the trees I” cried the cap- 
tain. 

And so we leaped up into the palm trees, and 
sat aside of great broad leaves. The birds chat- 
tered wildly, and strange, weird-like sounds 
came from the various unknown wild denizens 
of the island. 

On came the great wave. We saw it lift our 
ship bodily upon its crest. For a moment we 
feared that it would be carried from us back 
into the sea. But lo ! it was approaching us ; 
and now, cracking and crashing through the 
branches, we saw it pass by. We were for a 
moment thoroughly submerged. Our trees, 
however, remained fixed in their places. For 
two hours were we obliged to remain there until 
the waters had sufficiently receded to permit us 
to descend ; and then it was to find our tent 
completely shattered. The canvas lay scat- 
tered all about the island, and many of the spars 
were gone ; but in its place we had our ship. A 
ship on dry land I That was our home. But 
for the fear of a return of these terrible earth- 
quake waves, the enforced absence from home, 
it seemed as if we were going to enjoy a per- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


229 


petual pic-nic. We had fish from the sea in 
numbers and variety, and without end. Every 
night we could capture as many of the great 
green turtles as we pleased. Luscious fruits 
grew abundantly, and within easy reach. And 
the soil hardly required scratching to prepare it 
for planting any thing, and it seemed to grow 
without any further care. Besides this, there 
were biscuits by the ton, and liquors by the 
tierce, and cheeses, and pickled fish, and dry 
goods enough to stock a village. 

We resolved the next day to explore the 
island, and afterwards to organize a provisional 
government. 


230 


THE WBECKMASTER. 


CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH. 


BRINGS THE WRECKMASTER INTO HIS PROFESSION. 



HE ship’s company was divided into 
squads, who received instructions 
from the captain to go out in dif- 
^ ferent directions and survey the 
island, and to report at the ship-house in the 
evening. 

At the appointed time all returned and gave 
their various accounts of the day’s observations. 

Squad No. 1 was under the command of the 
ship’s captain. They reported having found a 
great amount of wrecked stuff, timbers and 
spars, and kegs, many of whieh were filled and 
many empty. Squad No. 2 reported substan- 
tially the same, adding that they had also dis- 
covered many whitened bones on the reefs, 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


231 


which were undoubtedly the remains of ship- 
wrecked sailors. Squad JTo. 3 reported havicg 
gone up a slight ascent, not high enough to be 
called a mountain, and yet too high for a hill ; 
there they had found a beautiful stream of 
water, which they had traced to its fountain- 
head, and there, in a cave, they discovered un- 
mistakable traces of a habitation. There was a 
bucket half filled with water, some charred 
pieces of wood, one of which they had brought 
away with them, a sail-cloth and a hammock, 
some pieces of crockery, and one cup half filled 
with tea. They could not say whether the in- 
habitant was about or not. Squad 'No. 4, of 
which I was the guide, had, however, the most 
important report to make. 

As we wandered along the shore, one of the 
men remarked a horrible stench. It was evi. 
dently a carcass, whether of some animal, sea- 
monster, or man, we could not guess. 

Guided by the scent, we searched, and behold, 
it came from the putrid corpse of a man I His 
dress told us directly that it was one of the 
sloop’s crew which had left us only two days 
before. The heat of the sun in this torrid 


232 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


zone, acting directly upon the dead matter, had 
produced almost immediate decay. 

It was a horrible sight. The body was bloat- 
ed to double its naturabsize, while great bottle 
flies were feeding upon it, and myriads of little 
crabs were marching like an army over it and 
devouring it. The birds had already plucked 
out the eyes. 

I said to my men, “ Look out, now. There 
must be more ; and the wreck of the sloop will 
undoubtedly be found somewhere near this 
place.” 

It was too true. After passing on about a 
half a mile, we came across more bodies, and 
then pieces of wreck, and at length, in the midst 
of a dense thicket, the great mass of what was 
once the sloop. All around it lay dead men. 

We carried home with us some of the evi- 
dences of the truthfulness of our report. 

We now had work on hand. We resolved 
ourselves into a mass meeting, and organized a 
sort of government. The captain was made 
President, and myself Vice-President. We then 
selected four from the crew as counsellors. All 
promised obedience to this government on this 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


233 


island, which we called, in imitation of the 
Spanish in those waters, “ St. Colombo.” 

The President directed me to make known to 
tlie people of our new republic, numbering, ex- 
clusive of the officers, thirty-seven souls, our 
first commands. ' 

A dozen men, having provided themselves 
with spades, were to go out the next morning, 
and give the dead bodies of the wrecked crew 
of the cruiser’s sloop a decent burial. This was 
to be both for decency’s sake, we calling our- 
selves Christians, and also for the health of our 
little community. Six more were to accompany 
them, and gather all the valuables which might 
be found on their persons, and also to search for 
the sloop’s treasure, and to bring it to head- 
quarters. Twelve more were assigned the duty 
of searching the island in the neighborhood of 
the fountain for the inhabitant or inhabitants of 
the place, and induce or compel him or them 
(if there should be more than one) to come to 
our house. The rest were to remain, and, under 
the direct orders of the President, put our home 
in order. 

The men went to their work with alacrity, I 


234 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


accompanied the party which was to search for 
the treasure. 

By night we were all at home again. We 
found that a great change had taken place 
during our absence. The captain had succeeded 
in making a new temporary deck on the ship, 
which was necessary, as the vessel lay on its 
side, and had covered the whole of it with can- 
vas. This he had divided into compartments 
for sleeping. He had also carpeted the whole 
with linen, large quantities of which were stored 
in the hold of the ship. He had put a mirror 
into each apartment ; also a washstand and a 
bucket, six camp chairs, and cot for sleeping. 
Not only was the whole place comfortable, but 
cozy and very attractive. This was his first 
day’s work. He had also projected a plan for 
kitchen and dining-room on the ground, and 
beneath the higher side of the great hulk of the 
vessel. The next night found this also nearly 
completed. 

After we had all gathered together, the squad 
in search of the inhabitant of the island came 
forward, and with them a strange-looking man. 
They reported having seen him in the under- 


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THE WRECKMASTER. 235 

brush, and that he immediately started to run 
from them. They pursued him, but he was 
swifter on foot than any of them. By good 
fortune, however, he stumbled and fell, when 
the company came upon him. He made no re- 
sistance, but moaned like a child. He was com- 
pletely mad. Yet he was clothed. But with 
his unshaven face, and long hair matted over 
his shoulders, and glaring eyes, he presented a 
very pitiful appearance. He kept moaning and 
whining like a whipped dog. We could not get 
a word from him. 

We hardly knew whether we ought to confine 
him as a dangerous man, or treat him kindly, as 
an object of pity. The most of the men were of 
the opinion that we had better put him in irons. 
I remonstrated against this, and plead for the 
privilege of taking him under my special charge. 
I designed in this an act of mercy ; but I was 
also curious to try my art in restoring his rea- 
son. I directed three men to take him to the 
beach, wash him, clip his hair, and reduce his 
beard to a tolerable length. He assented to all 
this without uttering a single word, but his 
whine took a different tone as if jjleased with 


236 THE TV'RECKMASTER. 

the operation. For the time he was placed 
under the guard of two men, and assigned to 
my sleeping quarters. 

I was curious to see how he would act when 
brought into the room. He walked straight to 
the mirror, looked in, and burst out into a loud 
laugh. I handed him a book. He nodded and 
smiled, and then amused himself by looking at 
the pictures. I then left him to make the report 
of the day’s operations. 

When I told the company that we had found 
all the treasure that had been taken«from us, 
they all cheered. And when I told them that 
the cruiser had lied to us, and that he was a 
regular pirate, the evidence of which was abun- 
dant, and that our treasure was increased four- 
fold, their joy knew no bounds. We were not 
bound by a promise to a man who had played 
us false. Kor, since his only object in enjoining 
upon us to remain two years on the island was 
chiefly to protect himself, now that he was dead, 
did we consider ourselves at all under obliga 
tion so to do. We were free men; and the 
most of us were richer than we had ever been 
before. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 237 

But of what use was all this bullion on a 
desert island? How should we get away? 

To get home 1 This was now our prayer and 
daily aim. We looked out upon the ocean every 
day to discover a sail. The days passed and the 
weeks passed, and the months passed — no sail 1 
We planted seeds, and they grew, and the 
melons ripened, and the potatoes ripened, and 
the grain ripened. A whole season passed. We 
gathered in our harvest, yet no sail I 

^Ve fished and hunted. We had abundance 
of sport — if that can be called sport when tlie 
heart is homesick — O, so homesick! We ate 
and drank. ISTo sickness visited us for a whole 
year. Every thing seemed prosperous with us. 
But we wanted to see a little speck of canvas 
rising on the swell of the ocean above the 
horizon; but not yet. Two years passed. It 
seemed as if we were doomed to remain there 
for ever. 

And now a fever — the yellow fever — broke out 
among us. One after another the brave boys 
succumbed* to it. They left us the address of 
their friends and their last messages; and we 
buried them in a row not far from our quarters. 


238 


THE WRECK3I ASTER. 


Then the captain fell a victim. I sat by and 
watched him. He said : “Singleton, I ’m going. 
Take this, and send it to my wife.” He spoke 
in his native French tongue. Then opening the 

t 

folds of his red flannel shirt, and nestling down 
deep in the meshes of his shaggy breast, he 
brought forth a little miniature done on ivory, 
and suspended to it a ring containing a large 
and brilliant diamond, and also a little pocket 
book. “ Tell her, if you live to see her, or write 
to her, that I die a Christian, and we will meet 
again.” 

He turned his coal-black eyes up to heaven. 
His chest heaved like the swells of a lazy ocean. 
With one more deeply-drawn breath, a quiver of 
the lip, a nervous stretch of the limbs, and that 
brave heart ceased to beat, and the noble form 
lay stretched in death. 

And so the work of death went on until only 
six remained. Hernando was very ill, but re- 
covered. I did not take it at all. I can not 
account for this, except that ever since leaving 
France I had not tasted a drop of spirituous 
liquor. Every other man drank as much as 
he pleased each day, for there was abundance 


THE WIIECIOIASTER. 


239 


of it on the island. We found keg after keg of 
the choicest of liquors among the debris on the 
shore, which had come from the many wrecks. 

I had determined to school myself that I 
might be the man my dear wife would be proud 
to call her husband, should God ever restore me 
to my home, and so I had not, up to that hour, 
touched any spirituous liquors from the day of 
sailing from France. All the time I was in 
Havre I had been a strict teetotaler. The only 
time I was greatly tempted was when my noble 
Hernando had risked his life in striking the 
bottle from my hands. 

We six, all of that number left, felt very lonely. 
We did not know how soon the demon would 
appear again. We resolved, therefore, to live 
like men, and, if we must die, to die like men. 

I became a sort of a minister. That old Greek 
Testament (pointing to the one his father had 
left) I translated and read in portions every 
morning and evening. We took turns in prayer. 
We became a Christian family. Some of the men 
had been drunkards ; they were now temperate. 
They had been profane; now an oath never 
passed their lips. They had be6n infidels ; now 


240 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


they saw a fitness in the Bible for all their 
spiritual necessities, and the unburdening of the 
heart in prayer was their greatest comfort. 

The times had been solemn. They had been 
changed into joy — joy of a character new to us 
all. 

AVe now set about seeking a way to escape 
with increased zeal. We made it our daily 
work. We planted three posts on different 
points on the island, and placed signals of dis- 
tress on each of them. A man was placed at 
each post. Day and night we kept watch. AYe 
suspended a lamp at night about half way up 
the masts. 

This was our life for another year. O, how 
long the time was I 

My deranged patient had improved very 
much. AV'e- found him perfectly docile and 
harmless. He made himself useful in various 
ways. He began to articulate a very few words. 
And when I mentioned the names of different 
places to him, his face indicated that he under- 
stood me. AYhen I mentioned New York he 
always smiled. I concluded from this that he 
was from that city. I tried in every way to get 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


241 


his name. At length I ran over a catalogue of 
names with which every Kew Yorker was sup- 
posed to be acquainted. His face lit up when- 
ever a familiar name struck his ear. I happened 
to mention the name of my father, giving it in 
full. His countenance fell in an instant. I then, 
recalling Job’s story of Mr. ’s instrumen- 

tality, together with Davis, in making my father 

bankrupt, mentioned Mr. ’s name. He rose 

up, very much excited, and started to leave the 

room. I then mentioned the name of Mr. ’s 

widowed daughter. The poor fellow screamed 
out ! He had lost the power of speech, but his 
memory appeared to be partially sound, and 
slowly recovering. 

I then set about the task of finding out his 
name. For this purpose I went up to his old 
cave and searched about, but found nothing. 
But as we wandered down by the beach, I dis- 
covered a large wooden trunk wedged between 
two reefs. The water under it must have been 
at least a hundred feet deep. It was sidewise, 
so that the lid could not be opened. I went 
Dack to the ship, and leaving my charge, re- 
turned with one of the men, a hammer and saw 
16 


242 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


I soon opened the chest, and there found that 
this poor creature was no other than Mr. 

Crocker, the husband of Mr. ’s daughter. 

They had all supposed him dead. But here he 
had been cast, the only survivor of a ship- 
wrecked crew. And now he was demented ! 

I also found among the papers in this trunk 

complete evidence that Mr. and Davis had 

conspired with this same poor fellow to ruin my 
father and enrich themselves. They had suc- 
ceeded in the former part better than the other. 
It was the ship upon which was depending the 
solvency or bankruptcy of my father, that had 
been purposely driven ashore here — those in 
command and the crew expecting to be soon 
picked up; but, alas for human plans! how 
often they miscarry ! Every one had perished, 
either in attempting to reach the shore or by the 
scourge of yellow fever. 

I thought that this poor fellow had but little 
claim upon my sympathy. I began to take less 
interest in him than formerly, when an event 
occurred which changed my mind toward him. 

We were awakened in the night, not long 
after this discovery, by the booming of cannon- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


243 


Poor Crocker whined most piteously, and came 
to my cot, stroking my face and pointing over 
toward the sea. 

The firing continued. It was certainly a ship. 
But instead of bringing us help, she was herself 
in danger. We ran to the shore, and we could 
see her plainly. The weather was a dead calm. 
But she had got among the reefs. We were 
now to be the wreckers. 


244 


THE WllECKMASTER. 


CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH. 


IS FULL OP HOPE AND JOY, 



HE booming of the guns on the ship 
now engirdled by the coral reefs 
continued. Fortunately she laj’’ 
entirely becalmed. Her sails hung 
loosely on the masts, yet there was death in 
front, death behind, and death all around her. 

We all, six in number, manned the long boat 
and pushed out into the little harbor. None of 
us had ventured, before this, into the tortuous 
channels among the reefs, fearing that we would 
not find the way back again. 

We were at a loss now ; and yet there was a 
precious freight of human lives at stake. Be- 
sides, there was hope of our own deliverance, if 
we should succeed in extricating the ship from 
the meshes among which she was entangled. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


245 


And now our demented islander proved of in- 
estimable value. Still unable to articulate but 
very few words, he yet seemed to comprehend 
the whole situation of affairs. 

He stood at my side as I guided the boat, at 
the same time peering far in advance, seeking 
for the channel. Now we were compelled to 
turn to the right, and now again to the left, and, 
almost before we were aware of it, we had again 
reached the land. 

I gave up the tiller in despair. The lunatic, 
as we called him, immediately seized it. It 
then occurred to me that he, having been a resi- 
dent of the island for several years, might know 
more about the channels than ourselves. So I 
directed the men to row, and trust to him to 
guide the boat. 

Round and round we went, seemingly making 
no headway; at one time it seemed as if we had 
made a complete circuit of the island. The ship 
was out of sight. But we knew her direction 
from the booming of her gun of distress. 

At length we came to a wider space of water. 
The lunatic fairly yelled his delight. lie steered 
straight on toward the ship, and came so near 


'246 


THE AVRECKMASTEE. 


that we could exchange sounds, although we 
could not yet be understood. We made another 
stretch of about a mile, turned a point of coral, 
and returned. This time we were in the same 
channel with the ship. We drew up alongside. 

“What ship is that?” I said. 

“ The Delaware, of New York, ” was the reply. 
“But who are jmu?” 

“Shipwrecked and cast away.” 

“How long since?” 

“Four years.” 

“Quick, men, and bring them aboard!” 
shouted the captain. 

Instantly the stairs were lowered to the 
water’s edge, our boat was made fast, and we 
^ ascended to the deck. 

I immediately directed the captain to cast 
anchor, for now the vessel was drifting along, 
and there was danger every moment of her 
grounding upon one of the reefs which were 
concealed several feet below the surface of the 
water. 

We then sat down and told our tale, the cap- 
tain and crew gathering around us. They 
listened with intense interest, and I could see 


THE WIIECKMASTER. 247 

the rough tars wiping away the big tears which 
a common humanity made to flow. 

When I mentioned my name, the captain 
looked at me with surprise. 

“Singleton I” he said, “Singleton!” What, 
the son of Singleton, the tea merchant? the son- 
in-law of Mr. Olcott? and whose mother mar- 
ried Mr. ?” ♦ 

“The very same,” I replied. 

“Then,” said he, “I have news for you. I 
am sorry to say it is not altogether good, either.” 

The captain then told me of the wreck of the 

vessel on which Mr. had sailed, and of his 

death. This I had heard before from the cap- 
tain of the cruiser which was wrecked on our 
island. He also informed me that the ship on 
which my mother had sailed had been captured 
by the English, and in consideration of her being 
an American, she had been returned to Havre 
under a flag of truce, but that Job had been 
retained in the English service. 

I told him it was good news. That he could 
not have given me any better. My mother was 
safe, and Mr. was gone. 

It may seem inhuman to rejoice over any 


218 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


mail’s death, but why should I act the hypo- 
crite? I was glad, right or wrong ; not so much 
that he had gone down to death, as that ni}’- 
mother was delivered from his hateful presence. 

With these facts as food for comfortable reflec- 
tion, we next turned our attention to saving the 
ship. 

We agreed that we would render our services, 
and that the vessel was to bear our little com- 
pany, with our treasure, to New York. 

It was no small labor, however, that we had 
undertaken. Those only who understand the 
peculiar arrangement of the numberless coral 
reefs in the Carribbean sea, can form any con- 
ception of the difficulties we encountered. 

Not to be tedious in the description, let it suf- 
fice that we were nearly a month in accomplish- 
ing our object of getting into the open sea. The 
most active agent in the operation was our poor 
lunatic. He seemed to have studied the cur- 
rents, and to have mapped all the ridges— those 
exposed and those concealed — clearly upon his 
mind. Every day he preceded us, as helmsman, 
in the long boat, and when he had made an im- 
portant discovery, he signaled us, and by de- 


THE 'NVEECKMASTER. 


249 


"rees, with the smallest quantity of sail set, 
assisted by oars, we pushed along. We made a 
complete circuit of the island three times by this 
slow process, ^^'ot only was it slow, but exceed- 
ingly dangerous ; for any unusual breeze might 
• drive us to the right or left upon the coral rocks, 
which, in many places, barely admitted the 
passage of the ship. 

When the open sea was reached, we spent 
some time in gathering together our effects. It 
was not without considerable anxiety that we 
shipped our bags and kegs of coined silver, 
the treasure the cruiser had captured from us, 
and which, with more than four times the 
amount, the sea had returned to us again. Only 
six were now the possessors of the whole amount. 
To propitiate the crew of our deliverer, we im- 
mediately made each one, from the captain to 
the cook, a liberal donation. 

And now the sails were set and we were 
“homeward bound.” The voyage was a very 
long one. But at length we came in sight of 
land just off Cape Ilenlopen. Then we saw the 
light at Cape May. Then we proceeded north- 
ward, and now Barneget, and now Sandy Hook 


250 


THE WRECKMASTER 


and the Highlands, and now Hew York hove 
into view I 

Our voyage was without any special incident, 
except the conduct of our lunatic. ' The nearer 
we approached our port of destination, the more 
excited he became. He whined and fawned 
about me Uke a dog. Sustaining the relation he 
did to my family, I was very anxious to restore 
him to them. And I had labored hard to bring 
back those particular faculties of the mind which 
were yet beclouded, and by practicing him in the 
way of speech, as if he were an infant, to bring 
back his articulation. 

He was treated with marked kindness by all 
on board. He seemed to appreciate it. At times 
we surprised him sitting against the gunwale 
with his elbows upon his knees, and his head in 
his hands, weeping as if his heart was broken. 

Coming from a southern latitude, we were 
quarantined for three days. During this time his 
motions were so strange that we deemed it well 
to watch him. 

I had just gone below after giving him a lesson, 
and seeing that he was properly shaved and 
dressed to meet his friends, when I was startled 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


251 


by a shriek. I immediately turned back, and 
looking over the side, saw my poor protege in the 
water I He had, in a fit of delirium which must 
have seized him the very moment I left his side, 
leaped overboard. 

The boat was lowered. I jumped into it and 
took the helm. Six men pulled for the poor fellow, 
who had already sunk twice. As he rose again, 
one of the men seized him by the hair, and with 
the aid of his companion, pulled him aboard the 
boat. 

He was still alive. I gave the helm to one of 
the men. Then turning him upon his stomach, 
I began chafing him. By the time we reached 
the ship, he was almost restored. We lifted him 
on the deck, and making a bed in the shadow of 
the main-sail, placed him upon it. 

By degrees he revived, opened his eyes wildly, 
looked about him with great wonder, and then 
asked in words, to the astonishment of all — 

‘‘Where ami!” 

Keason had returned, and with it the organs 
of speech had been unloosed. The dumb lunatic 
and the would-be suicide of a little while since 
was now clothed and in his right mind I 


252 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


We entered the harbor, and made our way to 
the anchorage ground just off the Battery of 
New York. 

I went ashore and engaged quarters for my 
friend Crocker, Hernando, and myself at the 
Merchants ’ Hotel. Thither we shipped our goods 
and treasure, bade the ship’s company “good- 
bye,” and were at home again. 

As the excitement of landing and locating died 
away, the new anxiety about my wife and child 
took possession of me. Where is she? Is she 
alive? Will her father receive me? Such ques- 
tions crowded upon me. Then came the thought 
that all had given me up for dead I Suppose she 
has married again I O, I could not contain my- 
self! I was not in a proper state of mind to 
investigate these things. I felt that indescriba- 
ble sensation again creeping over me such as I 
had experienced on several sad occasions before. 
I craved drink I Although I had not tasted it foi 
six years, the temptation seemed now to be irre- 
sistible. I was on the verge of rising from my 
seat in the arm-chair by the window and going 
to the bar, when Hernando announced a gentle- 
man in the parlor who wished to see me. 


THE WllECKM ASTER. 


253 


I went up, and there stood, Mr. Brown. He 
said that he was part owner of the ship in which 
I had just arrived, and hearing from the captain, 
about an hour before, that I was a passenger on 
board, and had taken quarters at the Merchants’, 
he had come to see me. 

From him I gathered the history of events 
which had transpired since I left home. He 

confirmed the report of Mr. ’s shipwreck 

and certain death as proved by the finding of his 
body. He also confirmed the report of the cap- 
ture of the vessel on which my mother and Job 
had sailed, and her return to France. In regard 
to my wife, he told me that the report had be- 
come current that we were all lost among the 
West Indian Islands, and I had been mourned 
as if dead ; that Mrs. Singleton had erected a 
monument in the graveyard to my memory, and 
that some friend had written some very flattering 
obituaries in the city papers. After about two 
years since I was supposed to be dead, Mrs. 
Singleton had a suitor in the person of my old 
dashy friend, Shaw. He offered her wealth, but 
she had no need of that. He approached her 
by professions of unbounded affection for me. 


254 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


She humored him, and gave him the freedom of 
the house for that. He then presented himself 
in such variously devoted ways that at length 
she became disgusted with him. But he would 
not take a hint to renounce her hand. 

Mrs. Singleton, having received repeated in- 
vitations from my mother to visit her at Havre, 
concluded she would go, in the hope that in 
this way she might shake off the irrepressible 
Shaw. 

Her father died shortly after this determina- 
tion was made, and Mrs. Singleton and her little 
daughter were lonely enough. The executors of 
the estate advised foreign travel, and she took 
her departure. She had been there now about 
a year. 

This was the substance of the information 
Brown gave me. I did not know whether to be 
happy or sad. I had cause for both. I thanked 
God that my dearest friends were still alive ; 
but then we were yet separated by the broad 
Atlantic. 

This interview was not only of profit in the 
W'ay of intelligence, but it was a diversion. It 
served the blessed purpose of turning me away 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


255 


from the glass to which I had been prepared to 
resort. Just at the right time this finger of 
Providence interposed between me and another, 
perhaps, this time, fatal fall. 

I immediately set to work to investigate my 
business affairs. A few vacant lots which I had 
owned had been sold for the payment of taxes 
which I redeemed. Their value had increased 
five-fold. The agent of my wife’s estate informed 
me that she was sole heir to her father’s estate. 
Besides these prospects, the amount of silver 
that I had secured, if I should be allowed to re- 
tain the whole of it, placed me in very inde- 
pendent circumstances. 

I accompanied Mr. Crocker in his efforts to 
find the whereabouts of his friends. Father and 
mother had gone. His wife was yet in France * 
and with him there was the same dread that I 
had experienced, that, having concluded that he 
was dead, she had taken another husband. 

He found his sister. She received us coldly 
at. first. It was with the greatest difficulty thai 
we could convince her of his identity. Even 
when convinced, there seemed more of uncertain 
anxiety about her than real joy. 


256 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


The cause of this? The accursed love of 
money. She had thought there was one heir 
less, consequently she expected more of the pa- 
ternal estate. Not having heard of Mrs. Crock- 
er and her little boy for a long time, she had 
considered them as having perished with her 
father. 

Poor Crocker was cut to the quick. He saw 
he was not welcomed, but only tolerated. An 
unwilling consent was given to his claims of 
relationship. 

The arrival of this sister’s husband made 
matters worse. He demanded proof of an im- 
possible character, and finally dismissed him 
with the remark that “prudence required that 
he should consider him an imposter until clear 
evidence could be procured !” 

And yet he and his sister talked over their 
childhood’s days, their plays and books, their 
relatives and visits, in a manner that would 
convince any one possessing at the same time 
sound judgment and a regard for justice. 

As we descended the steps, Crocker said, 
“Singleton, I ’m off.” 

“Where?” I asked. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 257 

“ Any where where I can find a ship to take 
me,” was his language of despair. 

I told him not to give up yet. As for me, I 
should take the next ship for France. And as 
his wife was there, and the daughter of a rich 
man deceased, perhaps he had better go with 
me. 

Before night our passage was secured, and in 
less than a week we were again afloat. 

17 


258 


•THE WRECKMASTER, 


CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH. 

GIVES THE ACCOUNT OF A FRUITLESS VOYAGE. 

France again I This time under 
different circumstances from those 
attending my previous voyage, six 
years before. Then I went as a vaga- 
bond, a pauper, a drunkard ; now as a gentle- 
man, wealthy, healthy, and temperate. Then 
I flew from my home and family in disgrace ; 
now I was seeking out my wife and child in the 
hope of a re-union, never to be sundered again, 
except by the ruthless hand of death. Then I 
was in despair and desperate ; now I could toss 
my hat in the air with a cheer, so buoyant, so 
hopeful was my heart. So off for France again. 

Mr. Crocker, the poor babbling lunatic of the 
island of St. Columbo, was now clothed in his 



THE WRECKM ASTER. 


259 


right mind. He was my companion. His 
errand, too, was one of hope, not unmixed with 
considerable doubt and fear. He knew that he 
had been long since given up for dead. He 
might be going to France only to have his 
horrible fears confirmed that his wife might 
already be the wife of another man I 

We were in full sympathy. I had reason to 
consider him my enemy, when I remembered 
the part he had acted in effecting the financial 
ruin of my father; but I ascertained that he 
was the tool, pliant and easy enough, to be sure, 
of a designing man; but that was attributable to 

an excessively amiable temper. Mr. , his 

father-in-law, was willing to sacrifice the pre- 
cious lives of a ship’s crew, and make his own 
and only daughter a widow, and his grandchild 
fatherless, if he could only compass his wicked 
end to impoverish and humiliate my father in 
order that he might remove an obstacle in his 
way of obtaining complete control of the affec- 
tions of my mother. And when he found that 
although the rightful husband died of a broken 
heart, as he intended, and that her heart went 
out even more strongly toward myself, her only 


260 ‘ THE WllECKMASTER. 

child, the same unrelenting, malignant spirit 
possessed and pressed him to remove me from 
the earth for the same reason. But a judgment 
had overtaken him. Suddenly he perished in 
the maw of the voracious ocean. The woman 
he loved, but who loathed his very presence, 
survived him. The man he persecuted is 
brought, like an apparition, to the land of her 
home, his widowed daughter has a husband, 
though as yet, she does not know it, and the 
supposed orphan has a father. 

Mr. Crocker and myself spent the time re- 
quired for the voyage in planning for the future. 
I was to get possession of the country-seat in 
Westchester county, and he was to purchase or 
to build in the neighborhood. We were then to 
resume business, and among our first projects 
one was to colonize St. Columbo. We were 
sufficiently well acquainted with the mode of 
entering the little harbor to warrant such an 
undertaking. And our opinion of the fertility 
of the soil, and the fabulous growth of wild 
fruits, and the amount of dye-stuffs, and the 
numbers of green turtles on the beach, led us to 
conclude that there was a fortune in it. And 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


261 


we were not mistaken, as those acquainted with 
the history of the famous West India house of 
Crocker, Millett & Co., will assure them. 

We arrived in good time in the harbor of 
Havre. After having registered our names at 
the hotel, we set out in company for the resi- 
dence of Mr. . Hernando was with us. He 

ran ahead and pulled the porter’s bell. It was 
answered by a stranger. I asked him if my 
mother (giving her name) and Mrs. Crocker 
■were in. What was our astonishment when he 
told us that they, together with another Ameri- 
can lady and a gentleman by the name of Shaw, 
had sailed for the United States four weeks 

since; that Mrs. had disposed of all her 

elfects, and returned home to stay the remainder 
of her days. 

The porter was able to give all these particu- 
lars, as he had been in their service since Job’s 
capture and retention by the British man-of-war. 

We had passed them on the way! I had a 
question on my lips I wished to ask the porter, 
but hesitated, both because it was of a nature 
hardly proper to propound to a servant, and 
also because I feared an unwelcome reply. Mr. 


202 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


Crocker was ajready assured, for the porter had 
distinctly called her by name. 

After a little delay, during which Crocker 
inquired about his son, and the porter had 
replied satisfactorily, I thought the poor fellow 
would go wild with delight. Again I ventured 
to inquire. 

“Can you tell me the name of the American 

lady who sailed with Mrs. and Mrs. 

Crocker ?” 

“O yes,” he said, “it was Singleton. She 
was a widow, and the gentleman accompanying 
seemed to be a suitor for her hand.” 

“Do you know,” I then inquired, “whether 
he met with any success?” 

‘Well,” he replied, “from what I could 
gather from bits of conversation, I concluded 
that he had been rejected several times, but had 
at last obtained her promise to become his wife, ” 

This sentence staggered and sickened me. I 
felt as if I should die. The porter, noticing my 
sudden illness, gave me a glass of wine. He 
then said that perhaps he had been too free in 
answering our questions without first finding out 
our names and the object of this close inquiry. 


THE WHECIvSIASTER: 


263 


The poor fellow seemed to be afflicted equally 
with myself when I told him that I was Henry 
Singleton, and that Mr. Shaw had returned to 
America to marry my wife. 

He, however, gave me reason to hope to inter- 
cept the event. It was now August, and he said 
that he distinctly understood that they would 
not be married until the holidays. 

You may be sure that the interval before the 
sailing of the next vessel to Yew York was painful 
enough. We occupied some portion of the time, 
however, in searching out the friends of our de- 
ceased comrades on St. Columbo. The captain’s 
wife, to whom I bore the miniature portrait, the 
rings and certificate of treasure, at the same 
time with the news and particulars of his death, 
was a very interesting woman. Though the 
bearer of unwelcome news usually has an un- 
kindly office, yet she seemed to cling to me as if 
I was a connecting link between her departed 
love and herself. She said she had nothing now 
for which to live. One by one her four children 
had been taken from her, and although she had 
long since concluded that she was a widow, she 
still held on to a single gleam of hope. Others 


264 THE WRECKMASTER. 

had been shipwrecked, and long, long afterwards 
had returned, as ourselves were present exam- 
ples. She asked us as a special favor if she might 
return with us to America. Her fortune was 
small, and with economy she could subsist with- 
out assistance. She had no near relatives in 
France, and one sister had emigrated to Hew 
York many years before. She was a woman of 
great depth of feeling, a well-informed and richly 
cultivated mind, and a gracefulness of manner 
suited to the highest position in society. 

We consented to her request, and assisted in 
completing her business arrangements, and then 
we took passage again on the ship “La Belle 
France,” bound for Hew York and advised to 
make the voyage in thirty-jive days ! 

And now adieu to France for ever I On the 
ocean wave once more for home, family, happi- 
ness ! So thought we ; so we said. But alas I 
for all human calculations I We sailed proudly 
into Hew Y ork harbor. As soon as permitted, we 
made our way to the shore. Again we recorded 
ourselves at the Merchants’ ; and again we 
started to find our hearts’ treasures. But where 
were we to look? I thought of Mr. Olcott’s 


265 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 

agent and executor, and immediately applied to 
him. But he met us with the sad news that 
“La Marsellaise,” the ship upon which they 
sailed, had been wrecked on the southern shore 
of Long Island, and, as far as known, there was 
but a single survivor, and he a sailor from before 
the mast. 

How can I describe my feelings at this an- 
nouncement I Blame me, if you will, yet make 
some allowance for the weakness of human na- 
ture, when I tell you I rushed from the office of 
the lawyer and into the nearest den of traffic I 
could find, and called for brandy, and drank, and 
drank, and drank until I Avas thoroughly uncon- 
scious and entirely oblivious to all the aAvful 
reflections with which my mind, sobered, must 
necessarily be filled I 

The shock was terrible. My hopes all blasted, 
the beautiful prospect which I had indulged for 
so many years eclipsed and thoroughly dark- 
ened ! I do not plead all this as an excuse for 
my indulgence. If it was a vice, it Avas pro- 
duced from the impulse of despair. 

The time during which I was held by the 
monster is to me a vast blank. All seems buried 


2GG THE WRECKMASTER. 

in a sea of oblivion. When I came to myself in 
part, the recollection of the great facts of my 
adversity appeared at first a horrible dream ; 
but chrystallized gradually into the truths that 
they were, my brain would immediately take fire, 
I would lose all control of myself, and nothing 
but drink would satisfy me, and nothing but 
drink would answer the purpose of a sedative. 
So that it was at once my craving and my medi- 
cine. 

This condition was really appalling. It was 
worse than death. 

My good angel, during all this period, was 
Crocker. Perhaps he remembered my attentions 
to him as a poor demented man on the island of 
St. Columbo ; at any rate he watched over me as 
a mother watches over her child. He believed the 
shock would expend itself, and that I would 
again become myself. 

His faith and patient working were at length 
rewarded. At first, when the favorable change 
began, I was so mentally enfeebled that I wept 
like an infant. Gradually, however, I became 
stronger, and uncontrollable sobbing took the 
place of the delirium of drink. From this time 


THE WllECKMASTEIl. 


207 ' 


forth I was never intoxicated ; yet from this time 
also I have steadily consumed the amount of rum 
which I purchase every week at our village 
store. 

I can not fully account for the fact that 
Crocker was not so shaken by the common disas- 
ter which had befallen us both. It may be that 
his hope of ever again meeting his wife and child 
had so long a time before utterly died out, that it 
had not thoroughly enkindled again ; or it may 
be that his grief revived and held him in a man- 
ner quite as profound as my own, but never 
having been a victim to strong drink, he did not 
seek that as a means of relief. 

01 it is of the nature of suicide thus to drown 
into oblivion the God-given and divine faculties 
of the human soul ; to stupify and benumb those 
parts of the human condition made to feel both 
joy and sorrow, and which God himself aids to 
endure the severest strokes, in order that they 
may be properly disciplined and developed. It is 
cowardly, too, just as the suicide is always a 
coward. It is a flight from danger when the 
duty to stand up firmly and nobly is so ardent. 
I make this acknowledgment with shame now, 


268 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


as I look back upon this and other like transac- 
tions in my history. And if there were no other 
argument of a more selfish and sensuous char, 
acter to enforce temperance and endurance, this 
ought to be sufficient. 

When I fully came to myself— a true prodigal 
— I went again to my Heavenly Father, whose 
readiness to forgive far exceeds our disposition 
to ask his forgiveness. I found relief in prayer. 
I resolved to begin anew. And although I have 
run a risk I could never recommend others in 
still indulging in drink statedly, yet my mind 
has never since given way, and I have continued 
until this day. 

My first impulse, after my recovery, was to 
ascertain precisely the x>lace of the wreck, and 
to confirm for myself the report that all had 
perished. 

I came to this place and purchased an ordi- 
nary fishing smack, provided it with all neces 
sary furniture and food, and, with Hernando, 
set sail with the view of thoroughly scouring the 
beach of Long Island in search of relics of the 
wreck at least, if not of some rescued but undis- 
covered living soul. 


THE WIIECKMASTER. 


269 


Our search for several days was utterly fruit- 
less. Our inquiries of the inhabitants of the 
bovels which lie scattered here and there along 
the beach, all brought out the fact that there 
had been a wreck somewhere farther to the 
eastward, but no one knew precisely the locality, 
nor had they discovered any vestige of the 
wreck. 

This led me to conclude that perhaps it might 
have occurred upon some one of the numerous 
little barren islands which lie several miles off 
from the beach which connects with the main 
land. 

We resolved to search them. We found one 
inhabited by a single man. He met our boat as 
we drove it through the breakers which beat 
upon his desolate islet, with a look of surprise, 
and I thought, also, of distrust and indignation. 
What could have induced a human being to 
select such a place for a habitation, I could not 
conceive. I resolved at a suitable time to make 
the inquiry, which I did, and found him to be a 
veritable hermit. He had been an outcast from 
home, had passed through a checkered experience 
of reverses and grief, had been thoroughly dis- 


270 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


gusted with the hollow shams of society, and its 
unforge tting and unforgiving practices, because 
so shackled by conventionalities, that he had 
made himself dead to the world, and had found 
contentment in living by himself. His case so 
nearly resembled my own that I immediately 
had a fellow-feeling for him, and it led to this 
solitary mode of life, which I have followed here 
for so many years. 

When I asked him respecting the wreck of 
the vessel, he replied that it had occurred on 
his island, and that its ruin was now lying on 
the side opposite to where we had landed. And 
when I asked him if there were any survivors, 
he replied that there were three, all of whom were 
the inmates of his home. He said they were an 
old woman and two children. 

I told him to lead us to his house. He said we 
need not go far. So turning around a small 
group of stunted cedars, he said, “ Here we are.” 

I looked for a house, and there, made up of 
cedar houghs with pieces of wrecks, with a beau- 
tiful female figure-head over the door, and the 
whole almost buried in the sand, was a hovel 
which, judging from its external appearance, 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 


271 


was hardly a tolerable stable for cattle. I 
entered it, and found a room nicely carpeted with 
the finest carpets that ever came from an English 
loom, and hung with mirrors, heavily corniced, 
with windows made of the bull’s eyes and cabin 
lights of ships ingeniously fastened together, a 
lounge, sofa, and other luxuries, such as would 
befit the finest mansion in New York City. The 
room was large. Opening out of it was a smaller 
room, into which he ushered us, and there, lying 
upon a bed, was an old woman, and two children, 
^ a girl and a boy, were seated near by, the one 
about seven and the other ten years of age. 

The shock was severe, but O how joyful I 
They were my mother and my daughter^ and the 
hoy was the son of my dear friend Crocker, 

I approached the bedside. My mother had 
just nwoke from a slumber. She looked at me 
long, scanning every feature of my face. I said, 
“Mother, do you know me?” She looked sur- 
prised. “Mother, I am Henry.” Again she 
looked bewildered. I stooped over and kissed 
her, and she drew me to her and held me in a 
long, long embrace. For some time she could not 
speak. At length she said, turning her eyes 


272 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


upward : O God, it is enough 1 1 have lived to see 
him once more. ^7ow lettest Thou thy servant 
depart in peace.” “Ko, no, mother,” I said, 
“you are not going to die. I am sent here to* 
preserve your life and to take you to my home. ” 

During this time the two children were look- 
ing on with eyes staring and mouths agape. 
“Henry,” said my mother, “don’t you know 
your child ?” I seized the little girl, who strug- 
gled to free herself from my grasp, and fairly 
covered her with kisses. I had not seen her 
since she was a little hahe in her mother’s arms, 
and greatly emaciated with the scarlet fever. 
Her picture, however, which I carried with me, 
had faithfully portrayed her features. Now she 
was mine. 

My pleasure in this was darkened by the fact, 
w^icli my mother confirmed, that my dear wife 
had perished, and that they knew of no others 
besides themselves saved from the wreck. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


273 


CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH. 

BRINGS THE WRKCKMASTER’S PART OP THE STORY TO A 
CLOSE. 

DO not know whether the solitary 
islander was more pleased than sur- 
prised and sorrowful. Pleased he 
could not but be, that^ his rescued 
favorites had found friends ; surprised he cer- 
tainly was, that they had been discovered ; and 
sorrowful none the less that he was to lose their 
society. For although solitude has its charms, 
yet man can not be entirely alone for any great 
length of time without pining for society. He 
doubtless thought he was to have the very com- 
pany he desired, and yet maintain his determina- 
tion to exclude himself from the populated world. 

He gave me an account of the wreck, which 

was fearful. How he saw the ship driven up 
18 



274 THE WRECKMASTER. 

among the breakers on the outside shoals — how 
lie saw the boats manned, and almost as quickly 
capsized in the waves, and the freight of human 
souls given to a watery grave — how a few of 
them were washed ashore near to where he was 
standing, and among them our party, who were 
with the captain and officers of the ship in one 
boat — how he sought to rescue them, but all to 
no purpose, except in the cases of the three who 
were now in his house — how he buried the other 
two females and a well-dressed gentleman, whom 
I immediately set down as poor Shaw, and how 
he carried my mother bodily to her room and 
placed her upon the bed, from which she had 
never since risen — and how the children mourned 
the loss of their mothers, whose bodies they saw 
buried, together with Shaw’s, in a common 
grave. 

I visited the spot of their interment, and 
marked it more distinctly than he did, in view 
of the future removal of their remains, and then 
made ready for our departure homeward. But 
here I was met with an unexpected revela- 
tion, which at once explained to me the earnest 
desire of my mother to die, and at the same time 


THE WIIECK3IASTER. 275 

made the face of her deliverer to shine like that 
of an angel. My mother's limbs were completely 
paralyzed. Yet this man, whom society had 
spurned, and who, if believed to be alive at all, 
was set down as a worthless character, had been 
the missionary to the needy and the suffering. 
There were none near to commend or to praise 
his works ; therefore it was no base motive that 
prompted him. He had nothing to gain. Pure, 
unselfish love was the impulse that moved him. 
It was the Christ in the man. So the inspired 
Psalmist speaks of “God’s hidden ones,” those 
whom the world does not know or regard, who 
are “hidden” from human applause ; but they 
are “God’s;” known to Him, beloved by him, 
influenced by him, commended and blessed by 
him. This shaggy, burnt, lone inhabitant of a 
little island of scarcely ten acres, was such an 
one. O, how I blessed him ! He was my 
brother indeed. And you may rest assured I 
did not forget him. Although I never persuaded 
him to live again on the main land, yet he and 
I have been companions on many a perilous 
occasion, when the winds and the waves have 
driven some unsuspecting ship upon the shores ; 


276 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


and he and I have shared together many joys 
and some sorrows. And one of the bitterest 
pangs of my life was when I laid his body in the 
very spot of earth from which I removed the 
remains of my dear wife and her two friends. 

I brought my mother and my child to New 
York. We felt lonely, and I was there as if dead. 
I purchased the property on the Sound, where, 
under the great trees, I was married, and fdr a 
time resided there. Mrs. Le Fevre, the wife of 
the French captain who accompanied us to 
America, was one of our household. Mr. 
Crocker took change of his little boy. Through 
his mother, the boy was heir to a large fortune. 
The management of this was placed in Crocker’s 
hands, and brought him a handsome income ; 
so that he lived and still lives in New York City 
in elegant luxury, a man beloved and honored in 
his gray hairs, and whom I am proud to call my 
friend. 

A singular fascination was thrown round me 
to live directly on the sea shore. Whether it 
was from my four years’ residence in St. Colum- 
bo, or from the circumstance of my wife having 
been drowned in the waters, or my mother and 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 


277 


child rescued from them, or sympathy for the 
old man of the island, I do not know. At any 
rate, I could not resist it, and so I purchased this 
place. I thought I was alone, but I was mis- 
taken. The father of that man on the hill, 
whose boys are made up of one part man, one 
part bull, and one part horse, and who presumes 
to insult me, was my enemy in college. He 
never forgave me for a victory I once gained over 
him in the recitation room, and which drove 
him in shame from the college to the race-course. 
He was the man whom Mr. used as his ef- 

fective tool to ruin me at the horse race, and the 
money gained at that time and in that manner 
was the foundation of his vast fortune. He — 
that man who has inherited his father’s hatred 
with his ill-gotten wealth, slandered me to my 
neighbors here, Avith whom I was disposed to 
live upon terms of social intimacy, so that those 
of them who did not look upon me with suspi- 
cion, as if I was some fiend in human shape, 
regarded me with disdain, as one whom they set 
down as an incorrigible drunkard and vagabond, 
though I challenge them to point out a single 
occasion when any one of them ever saAV me, 


278 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


since residing here, preceptibly under the influ- 
ence of intoxicating drink. 

So I fenced in my place and made it seem like 
a prison. I got me some dogs, who watch over 
my property. I kept my faithful servant Her- 
nando near me. And here I brought my mother, 
and for twenty years she lay in yonder room a 
helpless paralytic. I have only done my duty 
b}^ her. But in yonder clump of willows (point- 
ing out of the window to a marble monument) 
she sleeps ; yes, she sleeps that sleep that knows 
no waking on the earth, but which is regarded 
by Him of Avhom it is written “For so he giveth 
his beloved sleep.” 

In my Westchester house I left my daughter. 
Mr. Crocker made it, by special arrangement, 
his summer residence, and Mrs. Le Fevre was the 
governess of his and my child. Once a week they 
come here and spend the day with me. Thip 
was their custom until their school-days were 
ended. Then his sou went to college, and my 
daughter to the Moravian school at Bethlehem, 
Pennsylvania. They both graduated with dis- 
tinction. Young Crocker entered into business, 
the same business which bears his name, and 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


279 


which is carried on chiefly with the island of St. 
Columbo, in which I still hold a considerable 
interest. 

I never had the office of wreckmaster formally 
conferred upon me. I assumed it. I never 
received any pay for services rendered. But I 
have received the blessings of many a dying one, 
whose last messages I have had committed to 
me, and which I have conveyed to their living 
friends. And I have had the satisfaction of 
saving many precious lives — lives which, in the 
W'ay of subsequent usefulness, have proved that 
they were precious. This profession I have 
followed until now. I am fourscore years of 
age, and shall continue it so long as God shall 
grant me sufficient health and strength. 

Still addressing us as he concluded his narra- 
tive, the Wreckmaster added: 

Doubtless, young gentlemen, you, in common 
with the rest of the community, have wondered 
at the periodical arrival of the fine coach at my 
rough wooden gate. Por their satisfaction it 
may as well be told, when you shall make public 
the narrative I have given you, that the lady is 
my own daughter, the gentleman is her bus- 


280 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


Dand, and the son of my friend Crocker, and 
the little girl is their child and my grandchild. 
Her name is Helen Singleton Crocker. This 
velvet-bound Bible, which was saved by her 
mother when they both were taken from the 
jaws of death, I keep only as the memento of 
those early days when I was the young husband 
and father, and she who is now the mother was 
the little babe in arms ; and I purchased it and 
sent it over the seas from France to her. 

This picture I carried with me from the time 
I received it, in a private way, from my wife, 
from whom I was separated by my wicked 
course of conduct, and during the time that it 
was supposed her love must slacken towards 
me. That, too, is to become the property of 
my granddaughter. 

This diamond (pointing to the one he wore 
during the time he was giving me the above 
facts in his history) I took from the clothing of 
a dead body. It is of great value. I have been 
offered eight thousand dollars for it; but a 
million could not buy it. Upon the same body 
I found papers which were sufficient for its 
identification, together with a large amount of 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


281 


legal documents. The gentleman had resided 
in western Pennsylvania, and, from his corres- 
pondence, I judged that he was both a husband 
and a father. I carefully buried the body, and 
having satisfied myself that the papers secured 
were of great value to his heirs, without com- 
municating with any one I made the journey 
to Pittsburg to find them. It took me a full 
month during parts of November and Decem- 
ber. When I found them, they had not heard 
of the wreck, but were expecting their loved one 
home in season for the holidays. It was a hard 
task for me to perform, but it had to be done. 
My appearance was rough, so that I was invited 
into the kitchen. I began a conversation about 
things in general, and had not proceeded far 
before the lady stopped me, and invited me into 
the family sitting-room. I see them now, that 
beautiful young wife with one chubby, curly- 
headed boy making cob-houses on the floor, and 
another sweet little baby of not many weeks 
of age in her arms, and which the father had 
never yet seen, and the mother of the son, the 
grandmother of the children, with her cap drawn 
closely over her smooth gray hair, sitting in the 


282 


THE WRECKMA^TER. 


opposite corner of the chimney, knitting blue 
yarn stockings. I see them now, so cozy in 
their home, so happy in the prospect of having 
their son, husband, and father with them. But 
it had to be done, and I was the chosen mes- 
senger to do it — to announce to them that he 
lived no longer, to tell them that from the sea 
his soul had gone upward to its God — that his 
body then lay beneath the sands and under the 
shade of the only tuft of cedar the shore afforded. 
Xext only to the one that is stricken is the 
suffering of him who must tell the news that 
wounds. I did it. I remember the embarrass- 
ment on my part. I remember the look which 
seemed in part anger, in part surprise, in a 
great part horror, as it spoke from the counte- 
nances of wife and mother. Well, this was only 
one of many such scenes I have been compelled 
to witness. It was heart-rending to hear their 
wails and to see their sufferings. 

But time is the great healer. So in this case 
after the storm there came a calm. I was then 
prepared to deliver the documents in my posses- 
sion. I found that they secured them in the 
possession of a large inheritance. When I was 


283 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 

about to leave, she selected this diamond from 
among the other valuables, and forced it upon 
me by way of acknowledging my services. I 
have entertained those friends here, for they 
often come to visit my little plot yonder, (point- 
ing again through the window over towards his 
mother’s monument). 

This dirk, this violin bow — see the jewel in 
it, this shoe (taking up a tiny baby’s shoe), this 
lock of hair, this bone (picking up a human 
thigh bone), this piece of wood (apparently the 
spoke of a wagon wheel), — well, each of them, 
and, indeed, almost all that you see about us 
here, has a history connected with the sea. Some 
would tell of crimes dark and bloody, and which 
are calling to-day to Heaven for vengeance. 
Some would tell of deeds of heroic daring, and 
which have never yet appeared in books of veri- 
table story or of romance. Some would tell of 
love such as only mothers know who are com- 
pelled to see their children perishing before their 
eyes, while they are powerless to help or to save 
them. Some would tell of physical suifering 
such as the imagination can not conceive. 
Each one has a peculiar history. 


284 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 


And they are for the most part my preachers. 
1 learn from them what vices to shun, and that 
the way of the transgressor is hard. I learn 
that there is much of good in man Avhich is not 
manifest, but, like to the evil, waits for the occa- 
sion to bring it out. I learn, too, that life is 
very uncertain, and that there is much of suffer- 
ing. And I learn from my preachers, too, that 
there is a God and a judgment. Fool would I 
be to deny the testimony that has been thrust 
before my observation in favor of the Christian 
religion as a comforter in suffering and in the 
dying hour. Some of those numerous relics tell 
me constantly of this. I believe it, I feel it, I 
know it. 

The Wreckmaster finished his story, which 
was partly extemporized, and partly from memo- 
randa which Avere very neatly prepared. These 
he gave to me after Charley Cromwell and 
myself had solemnly promised not to make it 
knoAvn until after his decease. This promise 
has been faithfully kept. But there is a sequel 
to his story which the following chapters will 
disclose. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


285 


CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST. 


CONTAINS THE SEQUEL TO THE ‘WRECKMASTER’S STORY. 


HE next visit Charley Cromwell and 
myself made to our old friend was by 
special invitation. He had prepared 



— for us a very pleasant surprise, 


We found him in the parlor portion of his house. 
Every thing was arranged with scrupulous neat- 
ness. Hernando was busy giving a few finishing 
touches to the pictures and numerous articles 
of curiosity, placing them in various odd and 
tasteful forms to attract and arrest the atten- 
tion. 

Quaint old vases, each of a different pattern, 
and yet exquisitely beautiful, with sculpture and 
paintings of classic models, were filled with 
bouquets of wild flowers intermingled with sprigs 



286 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


of full-grown asparagus. A leopard’s skin of 
wondrous size served as a rug before the fire- 
place, where was burning a small, cheerful fire, 
to take off the dampness of the long-closed 
room. In e'^ry nook, upon every corner of 
mantel-piece, and picture frame, door and win- 
dow, was perched some curious bird — here a 
water fowl, and there a parrot; and sprinkled 
along the tops of the door frames, humming 
birds, each of a different species. As if to offset 
the beautiful, and yet to preserve the curious, a 
perch above the mantel-piece contained about a 
dozen frogs and toads, each of different kinds. 
The space between the chimney and the wall, 
on one side, and reaching from the ceiling 
almost to the floor, was filled with beetles, bugs, 
and moths, in great numbers, pinned through 
the back, and fastened upon a painted card- 
board. The other side was hung with fish, some 
of them stuffed and some only in the skeleton. 
Shelf over shelf in other spaces were filled with 
shells of all hues, and arranged with exquisite 
skill. Still others had pieces of wood, bones, 
portraits in ivory, money purses, leaves of 
books, and other articles which were suggestive 


THE AVRECKMASTER. 


287 


mementoes like those we mentioned as being in 
the living room or kitchen. It was a museum, 
plainly showing the student in the curious old 
Wreckmaster. 

The floor was laid with fragments of carpets, 
or rather with complete small patterns of the 
richest materials, goods which he had collected 
at different times from the wrecks he had visited. 

We consumed considerable time in examin- 
ing these curious things before our host entered. 
When he came, we were still more astonished 
by the style of his dress. He was no longer the 
rough old customer we had been accustomed to 
see, but who at times wore a ruffled shirt-bosom 
adorned with a brilliant diamond. He was now 
the complete gentleman, his hair dressed as 
usual, his beard flowing down over his chest, 
and his clothing of the best material, and cut 
after the modern style, and yet suited to his 
advanced 3^ears. He grasped us each with one 
of his hands, and said : 

“Once more, young gentlemen, I ’ni glad to 
see you. I asked you here to-day to make you 
acquainted with some of my friends. They will 
be here presently.” 


288 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


As he spoke, the loud harking of the dogs at 
the gate announced visitors. The old man met 
them at the door, and ushered them into his 
parlor. First he introduced an old gentleman 
apparently of about his own age. “This,” he 
said, “is my very dear friend, Mr. Crocker; 
and this,” bringing forward a lady, ‘‘is my 
daughter; and this,” pointing to the gentleman 
at her side, “is her husband, who is also Mr. 
Crocker; and this,” he said, lifting up a young 
miss of about twelve years of age, “is my 
granddaughter, Mary Singleton Crocker.” 

After we had paid our respects to these, as 
W’ell as boys of our age could do, blushing mean- 
while back to the temples, the Wreckmaster pro- 
posed a walk. 

He took us by a well-worn path through the 
garden and a little clump of walnut trees, to the 
little cemetery ; he opened the gate and went in: 
Without speaking a word, he took off his hat, 
and bending down, kissed a grave, and then he 
did the same to another grave. O, what a pic- 
ture that was! This octogenerian, kneeling 
there, his white locks driven back by the wind, 
thus manifesting his devotion to wife and 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


289 


mother. The tears were streaming down his 
cheeks. AVith a voice choked with emotion, he 
led his daughter first tp the grave of his wife. 
“See here, my child,” he said, “here lie the 
remains of your mother; her soul is yonder,” 
pointing his finger to the skies. “She was 
buried without a service being read by any 
ordained priest. But here she lies in the hope 
of a glorious immortality. I embittered her 
brief existence by my accursed habit of drink, 
and this hastened her death; and here,” he 
said, leading them to his own mother’s grave, 
“lie the remains of her whom I called mother^ 
although but little did I enjoy of her love and 
care. She was a woman mistaken and wronged, 
mistaken on her part by not conciliating her 
husband ; and wronged on his part by not know- 
ing the nature of a woman loving, and properly 
expecting a manifestation of love in return. I 
make no application of this, my children ; I leave 
you all, and these, my young friends, in whose 
future welfare I am greatly interested, to make 
it for yourselves.” 

This brief sermon could not be lost upon such 
a com])any. The old man himself, there and 


290 


THE WllECKMASTER. 


then, was a sermon. lie was an example of 
human weakness, at the same time of remark- 
able filial devotion and marital love. Ilis life 
for himself was almost a failure, but it was 
destined to bring forth fruit in old age. 

We returned to the house from our pious pil- 
grimage. Having entered, the old man charged 
his daughter never to neglect that spot, and he 
said to us, “Young men, I too shall soon lie 
there. If ever you are tempted by drink, enter 
the gate, and think of me, and know that the 
cure for intemperance is prevention rather than 
reform."’^ 

AVe dined together very sociably. I became 
very much interested in little Mary Singleton 
Crocker. AVhen we separated, her father and 
mother both invited us to visit them in Hew 
York. Of course we gladly accepted the invita- 
tion, and the days and years following echoed 
my footsteps as they went up Broadway and 
turned down Chambers street, and ascended the 
steps of number one hundred and forty-two. 
Charley went with me a few times, but at length 
he concluded that three spoiled the company, 
and, discreet fellow that he was, he withdrew. 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


291 


We both entered college. Four years of 
routine study brought us our diplomas. Com- 
mencement day arrived. We were men. — 
Arrayed in our academic robes, we marched 
from the old college through the campus and 
down the streets of New Brunswick to the 
church. What a spectacle! The church was 
filled throughout with the beauty and elite of 
the city and surrounding country. ' Hundreds 
had come from their distant homes prompted by 
their love for the college, or interested in some 
one of the graduates. There was not a foot of 
standing room. As, for the first time I faced 
an audience, I looked down from the platform, 
I trembled with emotion. The band struck up 
an inspiriting air, which was rewarded by the 
applause of the vast multitude. Then followed 
a prayer from a gray-headed clergyman; and 
then the addresses began. Introduced by the 
venerable President, each one arose, and first 
making obeisance to the Governor of the State 
and the other ex-officio dignitaries present, he 
turned to the audience and delivered his speech. 
The first was the Latin Salutatory. Probably 
not fifty among the thousands present under- 


292 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


stood a word, yet it was received with rapturous 
applause*. 

During this address I cast my eyes in vain 
over the audience to find the one person whom, 
of all others, I most desired to see. My heart 
sank within me. I feared that my speech would 
certainly be a failure. 

Others followed. They were, each in turn, 
gi-ceted with rounds of applause, and at the 
close of their speeches, a shower of bouquets 
fell all about them. The dread moment came 
for me. As yet I had not met the eyes I 
searched for and expected. I feared that some 
accident had prevented her from being present. 
I felt cast down, almost to despair. 

I rose and went forward. A blindness came 
over me. My voice, as well as my knees, trem- 
bled as I utteiMBd the first sentences. Then the 
whole multitude appeared one undistinguishable 
mass. I seemed to lose consciousness, and yet 
I observed that the house settled down into 
breathless silence. My voice rose with my 
theme. Without thought my gestures followed 
the sentiments I uttered. When I came to a 
close, for a second I stood like one petrified. I 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


293 


never knew before that I was an orator, but the 
very desperation of the effort made me eloquent. 
I retired in my confusion without making the 
customary bow to the audience. The flowers 
fell thick and fast around me. I gathered them 
up, and eagerly looked at the cards appended to 
them. Alas I there were none from her I I felt 
worse. All the applause was no gratification. 
After I had taken my seat again, a little boy 
made his way up the steps of the platform, and 
placed upon the table in front of the President a 
curious basket of flowers. They were arranged 
in conical form. The act of setting down the 
basket made the flowers to fall luxuriously over 
its side, and there was revealed a miniature bird 
cage, and just at the instant the band were 
beginning to play, a beautiful canary within set 
up a loud, shrill song, which was heard in every 
part of the house. The audience applauded the 
dear little fellow to the echo. The President, 
smiling, handed me the cage, saying, in a 
whisper, *‘1 guess there is something suggestive 
in this. Here is the cage and the bird in it.” 

“Yes,” said the Governor, “and the bird 
sings, too.” 


294 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


I blusbingly took it, and looked at the card. 
Well — I was content. She was here, and had 
witnessed my successful effort. It was from 
Mary. 

That was a proud day for me ; but the night 
was even happier than the day. 

I went to her hotel. I saw her alone ; and 
there, in the excitement and exliiliration of the 
moment, I asked her the question which sealed 
my happy fate. 

Three years after this I was a full fledged 
lawyer. A party were assembled at the old 
country house on the Sound. Beneath the great 
trees there stood the old Wreckmaster, upon the 
very spot where he stood nearly sixty years 
before, and where Dr. Livingston had united 
him in marriage to Helen Olcott. How his 
granddaughter and myself there pledged our 
troth “until death doth us part.” 

If any of my friends wish to see me, they may 
find me, during the months from May until 
November, at the same place. I will give them 
a sail in my yacht, or a drive behind as hand- 
some a span of horses as they ever saw. I will 
take them to where the fish love to congregate, 


THE WKECKMASTEK. 


295 


and teach them the angler’s art. I will seat 
them at my right hand at a hospitable table, 
and pledge friendship in tea, coffee, or cold 
water. If they are sick^ and require it, I .will 
give them a glass of old port for their stomach’s 
sake ; and I fear I will test the capacity and the 
endurance of that important part of their physi- 
cal constitution by the choicest of vegetables and 
fruits that a well-cultivated garden can produce. 

Or, if they wish to see me on business, any one 
can tell them where “Little Knickerbocker,” 
as they call me, can be found. My fees are 
moderate. For the “true widow and orphans ” 
the counsel is gratuitous ; but I do not profess 
to work for the wealthy without compensation. 
If any one asks why I do business, being suffi- 
ciently wealthy, or why I make a charge at all, 
why, I answer that is none of their business. 1 
have schemes of my own, and, God helping me, 
I shall try to alleviate the sufferings of my 
fellow creatures, and especially those unfortu- 
nate through the accursed bowl. 


296 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND. 

DKAWS OUR STORY TO A CLOSE. 

a lawyer, I had one case which was 
hard indeed, and yet it seemed as 
if justice was vindicating herself. 
The oldest son of- Jacobs, the 
man on the hill, (and, by the way, it ought to be 
stated that his real name was Davis, but that 
for reasons not very respectable, he was obliged 
to take the name of Jacobs,) came to me one 
day, saying that he wished my counsel. “It 
was not,” he said, “a mere matter of law, and 
yet there was some legal point involved in it.” 

I told him to state the case, which he did in 
substance, as follows : “ The property which my 
father had been enjoying, and by which he had 



THE WIIECKMASTER. 


297 


been enabled to secure so much, was entailed. 
The father was to have the free use of it until 
the youngest child should become of age, and 
then a new clause of the will was to take efiect. 
Tire father was to share equally in the property 
with his children, after a certain stipulated sum 
had been taken from it, and the interest added 

to it from the year (more than fifty years 

before) down to the time of the youngest arriv- 
ing at legal age, and the amount paid to Henry 
Singleton, if he should be living, or if not, then 
to his heirs or legal representatives. According 
to my grandfather’s will, this part of it, which 
was separately sealed, was not to be opened 
until the youngest child should attain to her 
majority. This, as I said, occurred but recently. 
We had all been enjoying the property until 
this time, according to the provisions of entail- 
nient. When, last week, my father read this 
secret clause, as he was then permitted to do, 
he fell back in his chair and expired. It was 
from a stroke of apoplexy, caused as much from 
the fact that this Henry Singleton was the 
object of his special dislike, as from the loss of 
so much of his property. Until very recently, 


298 


THE WRECK3IASTEH. 


this Singleton, who was an old drunken vaga- 
bond, lived a sort of hermit life, down on the 
neck near the bay. He has now disappeared. 
We undei-stand that he has no living relative^, 
and I have come to ask your counsel how to 
proceed to have this part of the will cancelled.” 

After hearing his statement, I invited him to 
come to my city residence the next evening at 
eight o’clock. 

At the appointed time he came. After a 
moment’s conversation, I told him that I wished 
to introduce a few friends, and that they were, 
in some way, associated with his business. 

I then threw back the sliding door, and led 
forward the old Wreckmaster. He was a wreck 
himself now. A second stroke of paralysis had 
very much broken him ; but he was dressed like 
the gentleman he was by nature and position. 

“Mr. Jacobs,” said I, “this is Mr. Henry 
Singleton, otherwise known as the Old Wreck- 
master.” 

The young man was thunderstruck. He 
turned pale. His tongue clave to the roof of 
his mouth. 

The old man extended his hand, and cordially 


200 


THE WIIECKM ASTER. 

shook that of the frightened young Jacobs. “ I 
am really glad to see you, sir,” he said. *‘1 
expected to have met your grandfather, whose 
name was Davis, upon the same business which 
has now called you here. I well know why he, 
in his repentant moments, made the clause in 
the will which transfers property to me to the 
amount of one hundred thousand dollars, calcu- 
lating it at simple interest. It was my-money 
of which he deprived me in a most base manner. 
Of course we shall claim the whole amount.” 

Then taking the young man again by the 
hand, he said: “I wish you a good-bye. Be 
honest; let fast horses and the wine bottle 
alone.” He then tottered into the back parlor, 
and threw himself into an easy chair. 

I then led forth Mrs. Crocker, who was on a 
visit to us, and introduced her. I then .brought 
forward my wife, and informed him that these 
were respectively the daughter and grand- 
daughter of the old Wreckmaster. I was just 
on the verge of saying “the old drunken vaga- 
bond,” but the laws of hospitality forbade it. 

Crestfallen and ashamed, the young man left 
the house. The next day he called at my office. 


300 


THE WRECKMASTEll. 


and made such an humble apology for misjudg- 
ing the old 'Wreckmaster, and giving, as an 
explanation, his apparent habits and mode of 
living, that I forgave him from the bottom of 
my heart. He said it was no fault of his that 
we had been defrauded ; and he hoped that his 
father’s foolish enmity against the old gentle- 
man might be forgiven. 

I promised him that I would present the case 
in a favorable light to our grandfather. With 
this we parted. 

To conform to the provisions of the will com- 
pelled the sale of Jacobs’ country seat, together 
with all his blooded stock of horses. It seemed 
a sort of poetic justice. For it was just this 
that befell the old Wreckmaster when old Davis 
succeeded in poisoning his horse on the day of 
the great race. 

But the results were far different. By some 
strange fancy, I took quite a liking for the eldest 
of the Jacobs family, and we became intimate. 
He and his brothers have entered into a co- 
partnership in the flour trade. They have 
become temperate in their habits, respectable 
members of the community, and one of them a 


THE W11ECK3IASTER. 


301 


pillar in the Church. The two daughters have 
married plain farmers, and live in a well enough 
style near the home of their former luxury. So 
in this case, adversity proved an excellent cor- 
rective rod. 

I almost forgot to say that I have a hoy 
named “Henry Singleton Knickerbocker.” He 
is the smartest boy that ever was born. He 
has the best development of body, the finest 
outline of face, the most majestic bumps of 
brains, the keenest and yet the kindest eye, the 
best shaped hand and foot, can say the brightest 
things for a three-year old you ever heard. If 
you say, “Ah, yes, that is because it is his baby; 
every father thinks the same of his own,” 
well, then, bring them along. Appoint your 
judges; and which baby carries off the prize 
shall have it. I do not mean, though, the one 
hundred thousand dollars his great-grandfather 
left him, and which was recovered after so long 
a time from the Jacobs family. 

It was not lOng after the transaction just 
narrated, when a sad procession wound its way 
through the hickory grove “down on the neck,” 
and there, in a grave, between the one which 


302 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


contained the remains of his wife, lost in the 
ocean, and that of the mother, the testimony of 
his most remarkable filial devotion, we placed 
the son and husband. Those who knew him 
loved him. And his works, to-day, follow him. 
“Requiescat in pace.” 

If this narrative shall seem to some to be too 
lenient towards the vice of intemperance while 
it aims to effect its remedy, let them remember 
that the mass of drunkards are thus, not from 
choice so much as from misfortune. They are 
objects of pity rather than harsh condemnation. 
For, generally, who are they who are overcome 
by this monster — strong drink? They are not 
your mean men, your stingy souls. I have 
heard of a man who had a soul so small that 
you could place it in the quill of a humming 
bird, and blow it into the eye of a red ant with- 
out making it wink. Such men never become 
drunkards. 

Nor yet are they your cold, calculating men — 
men who can not laugh, and who, if they salute 
you, drop their hands into yours like a dead 
fish. Such men do not become drunkards. 


THE WRECKMASTEK. 


3oa 

But they are your warm-hearted men — men 
of generous impulses, who leap out of them- 
selves to benefit a fellow-man, at a great sacri- 
fice to themselves. Call to mind those whom 
you know as confirmed drunkards to-day, and 
see if this is not the case. 

They are, therefore, objects of pity. They 
are weak in not being able to say “No” to an 
invitation to drink. They are weak in not 
mustering sufficient will-force to resist the temp- 
tation when trouble comes upon them. But do 
not curse them. Leave that to Him who 
judge th righteously ; but do you throw around 
them the arms of Christian love, and' seek to 
lead them away from dangerous associations 
and tempting companions, and show them that 
human resolution alone is not enough to save 
them ; but that they must seek a Higher Power, 
and that both power and mercy are readily 
given to him who asks for it. 

One sentence which fell from the old Wreck- 
master’s lips ought to be ever before the young 
man’s mind, to regard prevention in preference 
to reformation in this matter of drink. 

When a man departs never so little from the 


304 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


path of right, he is in danger of going far astray. 
This is terribly true in this matter. Take care 
of those -first glasses, those little yieldings. Only 
this once, what harm, and so on. How common 
such expressions ! How awful the consequences! 

It is difficult to reform a drunkard. It is easy 
to keep from becoming one. Prevention rather 
than reform. 

More persons become drunkards through the 
influence of others, than of their own choice. 
It is the invitation to drink that is worse than 
the yielding. The Bible pronounces a special 
curse upon those who induce their neighbors to 
take strong drink. 

In order, therefore, to effect a remedy of the 
great evil of intemperance, there must be cre- 
ated a new public sentiment. Some of the con- 
ventional customs, now deemed polite, must be 
changed. Por example : When, by your invita- 
tion, I sit down at your dinner table, you must 
not deem yourself remiss, nor must I deem j^ou 
impolite, if you do not tender me a glass of wine. 
Or, when we make our l^ew Year’s calls, accord- 
ing to our old Knickerbocker custom, you must 
not tempt me by your brilliant display of de- 


THE WRECKMASTER. 


305 


canters, and, on my part, I must not consider 
you niggardly because you limit your beverages 
to lemonade and coffee. 

Ladies have a great deal to do in making 
drunkards. So they may do much in prevent- 
ing their increase. And since it is themselves 
and their children upon whom the evils of the 
vice descends with such terrible force, it becomes 
them especially to exert themselves to stay the 
dreadful tide. 

It is very hard for a young man, say from six- 
teen to twenty years of age, to refuse an invita- 
tion from a lady to take a glass of wine. He is 
young and timorous. In the presence of ladies 
he is nervous and excitable to a degree almost 
beyond his power of judgment. Susceptible to 
attention, when a young lady, dressed in attrac- 
tive style, offers him wine, and it may be urges 
it upon him, saying, “ It can not do you harm,” 
or ‘‘Take it from me, won’t you?” it is hard, 
very hard, for a young man to resist such an 
inducement. Ah I how many who, to-day, are 
full of woes, in poverty and disease, red-eyed 
and bloated, without character and without 
hope, who fell before the tempter in the form 
20 


306 THE WIlECKMASTEIl. 

of a woman, urging them to take a little 
wine I 

Many persons become drunkards through a 
want of sympathy. As our story illustrates the 
effects of repeated and severe trials upon a 
mind already prepared to yield to demands for 
an artificial stimulus, so there are many like 
him who only need the arm of love thrown 
around them, and the voice of kindness speak- 
ing often to them, to save them from ruin. 
When a man is in misfortune, do not tantalize 
him. Do not even treat him with indifierence, 
for indifference Mils. Then is your opportunity. 
To neglect, it is to make yourself, in a measure, 
responsible for his downfall, if such should be his 
sad fate. 

Men have become rich, and suddenly their 
wealth flies away; men have been elevated to 
positions of trust and honor, and some rival 
thrusts them aside; men have their households 
entered by frequent visitations of death, or of 
disgrace to some member, or of sickness, or 
insanity; will you aggravate their distress, will 
you neglect to persevere in showing your sym- 
pathy? Then those men will seek something to 


THE WRECKMASTER. 307 

make them forget trouble, and what will it be? 
What else but dr ink ^ dr ink ^ drink! 

You will say they are wrong in yielding. So 
they are, and the terrible effects are their 
punishments. But they are weak, and they are 
under unusual pressure, and you are to be their 
ministering angel. You are to be in Christ’s 
stead, and try to save them. Eemember, “ Even 
the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, 
but to minister.” 

To my readers I say, ‘‘ Learn to say ‘Yo/’ To 
every invitation, ‘ no /’ To every temptation to 
drown trouble, ‘ Yo, I HI die -first I"* ” 

The true philosophy is. Prevention rather than 
Beform, 


THE END. 










If ! 














